IC-NRLF 


POEMS 

>< 

I-Y 

IRWIN       i 
RUSSELL 


POEMS  BY  IRWIN  RUSSELL 


POEMS 

BY 

IRWIN  RUSSELL 


NEW-YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1888, 
BY  THE  CENTURY  Co. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS  i 

NEBUCHADNEZZAR 16 

BUSINESS  IN  MISSISSIPPI 19 

SELLING  A  DOG 23 

UNCLE  NICK  ON  FISHING 25 

NORVERN  PEOPLE 28 

WHEREFORE  HE  PRAYS  THAT  A  WARRANT  MAY  ISSUE  31 

THE  MISSISSIPPI  WITNESS 35 

BLIND  NED 39 

MAHSR  JOHN 43 

PRECEPTS  AT  PARTING 47 

HALF-WAY  DOIN'S 51 

A  SERMON  FOR  THE  SISTERS 55 

UNCLE  CAP  INTERVIEWED 59 

THE  OLD  HOSTLER'S  EXPERIENCE          .        .        .        .63 

REV.  HENRY'S  WAR-SONG 66 

vii 


402223 


viii  CONTENTS 

LARRY'S  ON  THE  FORCE          .        .        .        .        .        .68 

THE  IRISH  ECLIPSE 72 

A  PRACTICAL  YOUNG  WOMAN 75 

THE  POLYPHONE 77 

THE  FIRST  CLIENT 82 

THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  SQUIRE          ....  86 

NINE  GRAVES  IN  EDINBRO 9° 

HOPE 94 

STUDIES  IN  STYLE 95 

ALONG  THE  LINE 99 

HER  CONQUEST I04 

NELLY I05 

COSMOS I07 

AN  EXCHANGE «  Io8 

THE  CEMETERY        ,„....•-  109 

GOING                          II0 


INTRODUCTION 


r  I  ^HERE  are  books  that  are  written  and  published 
A  with  high  hopes  and  ambitious  longings,  but  this 
volume  is  in  the  nature  of  a  memorial  to  its  author. 
It  represents  the  results  of  the  brief  literary  career  of 
IRWIN  RUSSELL,  of  Mississippi,  who  was  born  at  Port 
Gibson,  Mississippi,  on  the  3d  of  June,  1853,  and  who 
died  at  New  Orleans  on  the  23d  of  December,  1879. 

He  possessed,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  what  has  been 
described  as  the  poetical  temperament,  and  though  he 
was  little  more  than  twenty-six  years  old  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  his  sufferings  and  his  sorrows  made  his 
life  a  long  one.  He  had  at  his  command  everything 
that  affection  could  suggest;  he  had  loyal  friends 
wherever  he  went ;  but,  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  way- 


X  INTRODUCTION 

wardness  of  genius  led  continually  in  the  direction  of 
suffering  and  sorrow.  In  the  rush  and  hurly-burly 
of  the  practical,  every-day  world,  he  found  himself 
helpless;  and  so,  after  a  brief  struggle,  he  died. 

IRWIN  RUSSELL  was  among  the  first  —  if  not  the 
very  first  —  of  Southern  writers  to  appreciate  the  lit 
erary  possibilities  of  the  negro  character,  and  of  the 
unique  relations  existing  between  the  two  races  before 
the  war,  and  was  among  the  first  to  develop  them. 
The  opinion  of  an  uncritical  mind  ought  not  to  go  for 
much,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  some  of  IRWIN  RUSSELL'S 
negro-character  studies  rise  to  the  level  of  what,  in 
a  large  way,  we  term  literature.  His  negro  operetta, 
"  Christmas-Night  in  the  Quarters,"  is  inimitable.  It 
combines  the  features  of  a  character  study  with  a  series 
of  bold  and  striking  plantation  pictures  that  have  never 
been  surpassed.  In  this  remarkable  group, —  if  I  may 
so  term  it, —  the  old  life  before  the  war  is  reproduced 
with  a  fidelity  that  is  marvelous. 


INTRODUCTION  XI 

But  the  most  wonderful  thing  about  the  dialect 
poetry  of  IRWIN  RUSSELL  is  his  accurate  conception 
of  the  negro  character.  The  dialect  is  not  always  the 
best, —  it  is  often  carelessly  written, —  but  the  negro  is 
there,  the  old-fashioned,  unadulterated  negro,  who  is 
still  dear  to  the  Southern  heart.  There  is  no  straining 
after  effect  —  indeed,  the  poems  produce  their  result 
by  indirection ;  but  I  do  not  know  where  could  be 
found  to-day  a  happier  or  a  more  perfect  representation 
of  negro  character. 

JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS. 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS 

WHEN  merry  Christmas-day  is  done, 
And  Christmas-night  is  just  begun ; 
While  clouds  in  slow  procession  drift, 
To  wish  the  moon-man  "  Christmas  gift," 
Yet  linger  overhead,  to  know 
What  causes  all  the  stir  below; 
At  Uncle  Johnny  Booker's  ball 
The  darkies  hold  high  carnival. 
From  all  the  country-side  they  throng, 
With  laughter,  shouts,  and  scraps  of  song,— 
Their  whole  deportment  plainly  showing 
That  to  the  Frolic  they  are  going. 
Some  take  the  path  with  shoes  in  hand, 
To  traverse  muddy  bottom-land ; 
Aristocrats  their  steeds  bestride  — 
Four  on  a  mule,  behold  them  ride ! 


>* 


CffrRlZTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS 

And  ten  great  oxen  draw  apace 

The  wagon  from  "  de  oder  place," 

With  forty  guests,  whose  conversation 

Betokens  glad  anticipation. 

Not  so  with  him  who  drives :  old  Jim 

Is  sagely  solemn,  hard,  and  grim, 

And  frolics  have  no  joys  for  him. 

He  seldom  speaks  but  to  condemn— 

Or  utter  some  wise  apothegm — 

Or  else,  some  crabbed  thought  pursuing, 

Talk  to  his  team,  as  now  he's  doing  : 


Come  up  heah,  Star !  Yee-bawee  ! 

You  alluz  is  a-laggin'  — 
Mus'  be  you  think  Fs  dead, 

An'  dis  de  huss  you's  draggin' — 
You's  'mos'  too  lazy  to  draw  yo'  bref, 

Let  'lone  drawin'  de  waggin. 

Dis  team  —  quit  beFrin',  sah ! 
De  ladies  don't  submit  'at  — 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS       3 

Dis  team  —  you  oP  fool  ox, 
You  heah  me  tell  you  quit  'at  ? 

Dis  team's  des  like  de  'Nited  States ; 
Dafs  what  I's  tryin'  to  git  at ! 

De  people  rides  behin', 

De  pollytishners  haulin'  — 
Sh'u'd  be  a  well-bruk  ox, 

To  foller  dat  ar  callin'  — 
An'  sometimes  nuffin  won't  do  dem  steers, 

But  what  dey  mus'  be  stallin' ! 


Woo  bahgh !  Buck-kannon !  Yes,  sah, 
Sometimes  dey  will  be  stickin' ; 

An'  den,  fus  thing  dey  knows, 
Dey  takes  a  rale  good  lickin'. 

De  folks  gits  down  :  an'  den  watch  out 
For  hommerin'  an'  kickin'. 

Dey  blows  upon  dey  hands, 
Den  flings  'em  wid  de  nails  up, 

Jumps  up  an'  cracks  dey  heels, 
An'  pruzently  dey  sails  up, 


4       CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS 

An'  makes  dem  oxen  hump  deysef, 
By  twistin'  all  dey  tails  up ! 


In  this  our  age  of  printer's  ink 
Tis  books  that  show  us  how  to  think — 
The  rule  reversed,  and  set  at  naught, 
That  held  that  books  were  born  of  thought. 
We  form  our  minds  by  pedants'  rules, 
And  all  we  know  is  from  the  schools ; 
And  when  we  work,  or  when  we  play, 
We  do  it  in  an  ordered  way — 
And  Nature's  self  pronounce  a  ban  on, 
Whene'er  she  dares  trangress  a  canon. 
Un trammeled  thus  the  simple  race  is 
That  "  wuks  the  craps  "  on  cotton  places. 
Original  in  act  and  thought, 
Because  unlearned  and  untaught. 
Observe  them  at  their  Christmas  party: 
How  unrestrained  their  mirth — how  hearty ! 
How  many  things  they  say  and  do 
That  never  would  occur  to  you ! 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS       5 

See  Brudder  Brown  —  whose  saving  grace 
Would  sanctify  a  quarter-race  — 
Out  on  the  crowded  floor  advance, 
To  "  beg  a  blessin'  on  dis  dance." 

O  Mahsr  !  let  dis  gath'rin'  fin'  a  blessin'  in  yo'  sight  ! 
Don't  jedge  us  hard  fur  what  we  does  —  you  knows  it's 

Chrismus-night  ; 

An'  all  de  balunce  ob  de  yeah  we  does  as  right's  we  kin. 
Ef  dancin's  wrong,  O  Mahsr!   let  de  time  excuse 

de  sin  ! 


We  labors  in   de  vineya'd,  wukin'  hard  an' 

true; 
Now,  shorely  you  won't  notus,  ef  we^ats  a  grape  or 

two, 

An'  takes  a  leetle  holiday,  —  a  leetle  restin'-spell,  — 
Bekase,  nex'  week,  we'll  sta"rt  in  fresh,  an'  labor  twicet 

as  well. 


Remember,  Maj>sr, — min'  dis,  now, — de  Willfulness  ob 


sin 


Is  'pendin'  'pon  de  sperrit  what  we  goes  an'  does  k  in : 

2 


6       CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS 

An'  in  a  righchis  frame  obmin'  we's  gwine  to  dance  an' 

sing, 
A-feeiin'  like  King  David,  when  he  cut  de  pigeon- wing. 

It  seems  to  me  —  indeed  it  do  —  I  mebbe  mout  be 

wrong — 
That  people  raly  ought   to  dance,  when   Chrismus 

comes  along ; 
Des  dance  bekase  dey's  happy  —  like  de  birds  hops  in 

de  trees, 
De  pine-top  fiddle  soundin'  to  de  bowin'  ob  de  breeze. 

We-has  no  ark  to  dance  afore,  like  Isrul's  prophet  king ; 
We  has  iitKharp  to  soun'  de  chords,  to  holp  us  out  to 

sing; 
But  'cordin'  to  de  gif  s  we  has  we  does  de  bes'  we 

knows, 
An'  folks  don't  'spise  de  vi'let-flower  bekase  it  ain't  de 

rose. 


.,..  You  bless  fS,  please,  sah,  eben  ef  we's  doin'  wrong  to 
night; 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS      7 

Kase  den  we'll  need  de  blessin'  more'n  ef  we's  doin' 

right; 

An'  let  de  blessin'  stay  wid  us,  untel  we  comes  to  die, 
An'  goes  to  keep  our  Chrismus  wid  dem  sheriffs  in  de 

sky! 

Yes,  tell  dem  preshis  anguls  we's  a-gwine  to  jine  'em  soon : 
Our  voices  we's  a-trainin'  fur  to  sing  de  glory  tune ; 
We's  ready  when  you  wants  us,  anr  it  ain't  no  matter 

when  — 
O  Mahsr !  call  yo'  chillen  soon,  an'  take  'em  home ! 

Amen. 

The  rev'rend  man  is  scarcely  through, 
When  all  the  noise  begins  anew, 
And  with  such  force  assaults  the  ears, 
That  through  the  din  one  hardly  hears 
Old  fiddling  Josey  "  sound  his  A," 
Correct  the  pitch,  begin  to  play, 
Stop,  satisfied,  then,  with  the  bow, 
Rap  out  the  signal  dancers  know : 


8        CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS 

Git  yo*  pardners,  fust  kwattillion  / 

Stomp  yo'  feet,  an'  raise  'em  high ; 

Tune  is :  "  Oh  !  dat  water-million ! 

Gwine  to  git  to  home  bime-bye." 

S 'lute  yd1  pardners  /  —  scrape  perlitely  — 

Don't  be  bumpin'  gin  de  res' — 

Balance  all! — now,  step  out  rightly; 

Alluz  dance  yo'  lebbel  bes'. 

Ftfwa 'd  foah  !  —  whoop  up,  niggers ! 

Back  ag*in  /  —  don't  be  so  slow !  — 

Swing  cornahs  /  —  min'  de  figgers ! 

When  I  hollers,  den  yo'  go. 

Top  ladies  cross  ober  ! 

Hoi'  on,  till  I  takes  a  dram  — 

Gemmen  solo  /  —  yes,  7V  sober  — 

Cain't  say  how  de  fiddle  am. 

Hands  around ' ! — hoi'  up  yo'  faces, 

Don't  be  lookin'  at  yo'  feet ! 

Swing  yo'  pardners  to  yd1  places  / 

Dat's  de  way  —  dat's  hard  to  beat. 

Sides  fo'w'd 7 —  when  you's  ready  — 

Make  a  bow  as  low's  you  kin ! 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS       9 

Swing  acrost  wid  opposite  lady  / 

Now  we'll  let  you  swap  ag'in : 

Ladies  change  /  —  shet  up  dat  talkin* ; 

Do  yo'  talkin'  arter  while ! 

Right  a?i*  lef  /  —  don't  want  no  walkin' — 

Make  yo'  steps,  an'  show  yo'  style ! 


And  so  the  "  set "  proceeds  —  its  length 

Determined  by  the  dancers'  strength ; 

And  all  agree  to  yield  the  palm 

For  grace  and  skill  to  "  Georgy  Sam," 

Who  stamps  so  hard,  and  leaps  so  high, 

"  Des  watch  him! "  is  the  wond'ring  cry—' 

"  De  nigger  mus'  be,  for  a  fac', 

Own  cousin  to  a  jumpin'-jack  !  " 

On,  on  the  restless  fiddle  sounds, 

Still  chorused  by  the  curs  and  hounds ; 

Dance  after  dance  succeeding  fast, 

Till  supper  is  announced  at  last. 

That  scene  —  but  why  attempt  to  show  it  ? 

The  most  inventive  modern  poet, 


io      CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS 

In  fine  new  words  whose  hope  and  trust  is, 
Could  form  no  phrase  to  do  it  justice ! 
When  supper  ends  —  that  is  not  soon  — 
The  fiddle  strikes  the  same  old  tune ; 
The  dancers  pound  the  floor  again, 
With  all  they  have  of  might  and  main ; 
Old  gossips,  almost  turning  pale, 
Attend  Aunt  Cassy's  gruesome  tale 
Of  conjurors,  and  ghosts,  and  devils, 
That  in  the  smoke-house  hold  their  revels ; 
Each  drowsy  baby  droops  his  head, 
Yet  scorns  the  very  thought  of  bed :  — 
So  wears  the  night,  and  wears  so  fast, 
All  wonder  when  they  find  it  past, 
And  hear  the  signal  sound  to  go 
From  what  few  cocks  are  left  to  crow. 
Then,  one  and  all,  you  hear  them  shout : 
"  Hi !  Booker !  fotch  de  banjo  out, 
An'  gib  us  one  song  'fore  we  goes  — 
One  ob  de  berry  bes'  you  knows ! " 
Responding  to  the  welcome  call, 
He  takes  the  banjo  from  the  wall, 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS     n 

And  tunes  the  strings  with  skill  and  care, 
Then  strikes  them  with  a  master's  air, 
And  tells,  in  melody  and  rhyme, 
This  legend  of  the  olden  time  : 

Go    'way,    fiddle !     folks    is    tired    o'    hearin'    you 

a-squawkin'. 
Keep   silence  fur  yo'  betters! — don't  you  heah  de 

banjo  talkin'  ? 
About  de  'possum's  tail  she's  gwine  to  lecter — ladies, 

listen !  — 
About  de  ha'r  whut   isn't   dar,  an'  why  de  ha'r  is 

missin' : 

"  Dar's  gwine  to  be  a'  oberflow,"  said  Noah,  lookin' 
solemn  — 

Fur  Noah  tuk  the  "  Herald,"  an'  he  read  de  ribber 
column  — 

An'  so  he  sot  his  hands  to  wuk  a-cl'arin'  timber- 
patches, 

An'  'lowed  he's  gwine  to  build  a  boat  to  beat  the 
steamah  Natchez. 


12      CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS 

Ol'  Noah  kep'  a-nailin'  an'  a-chippin'  an'  a-sawin'; 
An*  all  de  wicked  neighbors  kep'  a-laughin'  an' 

a-pshawin' ; 
But  Noah  didn't  min'  'em,  knowin'  whut  wuz  gwine 

to  happen : 
An'  forty  days  an'  forty  nights  de  rain  it  kep'  a-drap- 

pin'.    \ 

\ 
Now,  Noah  had  done  cotched  a  lot  ob  ebry  sort  o' 

beas'es  —     \ 

Ob  all  de  shows  a-trabbelin',  it  beat  'em  all  to  pieces ! 
He  had  a  Morgan  colt  an'  sebral  head  o'  Jarsey  cattle — 
An'  druv  'em  'board  de  Ark  as  soon's  he  heered  de 

thunder  rattle. 

Den  sech  anoder  fall  ob  rain!- — it  come  so  awful 

hebby, 

De  ribber  riz  immejitly,  an'  busted  troo  de  lebbee ; 
De  people  all  wuz  drownded  out  — 'cep'  Noah  an'  de 

critters, 
An'  men  he'd  hired  to  work  de  boat  —  an*  one  to  mix 

de  bitters. 


CHRISTMAS -NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS     13 

De  Ark  she  kep'  a-sailin'  an'  a-sailin'  an1  a-sailin' ; 
De  lion  got  his  dander  up,  an*  like  to  bruk  de  palin'; 
De  sarpints   hissed;   de  painters   yelled;   tell,  whut 

wid  all  de  fussin', 
You  c'u'dn't  hardly  heah  de  mate  a-bossin'  'roun'  an' 


Now,  Ham,  de  only  nigger  whut  wuz  runnin'  on  de 

packet, 
Got  lonesome  in  de  barber- shop,  an'  c'u'dn't  stan'  de 

racket ; 
An'  so,  fur  to  amuse  he-se'f,  he  steamed  some  wood 

an*  bent  it, 
An'  soon  he  had  a  banjo  made — de  fust  dat  wuz  invented. 

He  wet  de  ledder,  stretched  it  on ;  made  bridge  an' 

screws  an'  aprin; 
An'  fitted   in  a  proper  neck  —  'twuz   berry  long   an' 

tap'rin' ; 

He  tuk  some  tin,  an 'twisted  him  a  thimble  fur  to  ring  it; 
An'  den  de  mighty  question  riz :  how  wuz  he  gwine 

to  string  it  ? 


14      CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE  QUARTERS 

De  'possum  had  as  fine  a  tail  as  dis  dat  I's  a-singin' ; 
De  ha'r's   so  long  an'  thick  an'  strong, —  des  fit  fur 

banjo-stringin' ; 
Dat  nigger  shaved  'em  off  as  short  as  wash-day-dinner 

graces ; 
An'  sorted  ob  'em  by  de  size,  f 'om  little  E's  to  basses. 


r,  tuned  her, 


He  strung  her,  tuned  her,  struck  a  jig, — 'twuz  "  Nebber 

min'  de  wedder," — 

She  soun'  like  forty-lebhen  bands  a-playin'  all  togedder; 
Some  went  to  pattin' ;  some  to  dancin' :  Noah  called 

defiggers;  \ 

An'  Ham  he  sot  an'  knocked  de  tune,  de  happiest  ob 

niggers ! 

\ 

Now,  sence  dat   time  —  it's   mighty  strange  —  dere's 

not  de  slightes'  showin' 

Ob  any  ha'r  at  all  upon  de  'possum's  tail  a-growin' ; 
An'  curi's,  too,  dat  nigger's  ways :   his  people  nebber 

los'  'em  — 
Fur  whar  you  finds  de  nigger  —  dar's  de  banjo  an'  de 

'possum ! 


CHRISTMAS-NIGHT  IN  THE   QUARTERS     15 

^f  he  night  is  spent ;  and  as  the  day 
Throws  up  the  first  faint  flash  of  gray, 

The  guests  pursue  their  homeward  way ; 

And  through  the  field  beyond  the  gin, 
Just  ass  the  stars  are  going  in, 
See  Santa  Glaus  departing  —  grieving  — 
His  own  dear  Land  of  Cotton  leaving. 
His  work  is  done.;  he  fain  would  rest 
Where  people  know  and  love  him  best. 
He  pauses,  listens,  looks  about ; 
But  go  he  must :  his  pass  is  out. 
So,  coughing  down  the  rising  tears, 
He  climbs  the  fence  and  disappears. 
"  And  thus  observes  a  colored  youth 
(The  common  sentiment,  in  sooth) : 
"  Oh !  what  a  blessin'  'tw'u'd  ha'  been, 
Ef  Santy  had  been  born  a  twin ! 
We'd  hab  two  Chrismuses  a  yeah  — 
Or  p'r'aps  one  brudder'd  settle  heah ! " 


NEBUCHADNEZZAR 

You,  Nebuchadnezzah,  whoa,  sah ! 
Whar  is  you  tryin'  to  go,  sah  ? 
I'd  hab  you  fur  to  know,  sah, 

I's  a-holdin'  ob  de  lines. 
You  better  stop  dat  prancin' ; 
You's  pow'ful  fond  ob  dancin', 
But  I'll  bet  my  yeah's  advancin' 

Dat  I'll  cure  you  ob  yo'  shines. 

Look  heah,  mule !   Better  min*  out ; 
Fus'  t'ing  you  know  you'll  fin*  out 
How  quick  I'll  wear  dis  line  out 

On  your  ugly,  stubbo'n  back. 
You  needn't  try  to  steal  up 
An'  lif '  dat  precious  heel  up ; 
You's  got  to  plow  dis  fiel'  up, 

You  has,  sah,  fur  a  fac*. 

16 


NEBUCHADNEZZAR  17 

Dar,  dafs  de  way  to  do  it ! 
He's  comin'  right  down  to  it; 
Jes  watch  him  plowin'  troo  it ! 

Dis  nigger  ain't  no  fool. 
Some  folks  dey  would  'a'  beat  him ; 
Now,  dat  would  only  heat  him — 
I  know  jes  how  to  treat  him : 

You  mus'  reason  wid  a  mule. 

He  minds  me  like  a  nigger. 
If  he  wuz  only  bigger 
He'd  fotch  a  mighty  figger, 

He  would,  I  tell  you !   Yes,  sah ! 
See  how  he  keeps  a-clickin' ! 
He's  as  gentle  as  a  chickin, 
An'  nebber  thinks  o'  kickin' — 

Whoa  dar  /  Nebuchadnezzah  ! 

Is  dis  heah  me,  or  not  me? 
Or  is  de  debbil  got  me  ? 
Wuz  dat  a  cannon  shot  me  ? 

Hab  I  laid  heah  more'n  a  week  ? 


i8  NEBUCHADNEZZAR 


Dat  mule  do  kick  amazin' ! 

De  beast  wuz  sp'iled  in  raisin' — 

But  now  I  'spect  he's  grazin' 

On  de  oder  side  de  creek. 


BUSINESS  IN  MISSISSIPPI 

WHY,  howdy,  Mahsr  Johnny !  Is  you  gone  to  keepin' 

store  ? 
Well,  sah,  I  is  surprised!    I   nebber  heard  ob  dat 

afore. 
Say,  ain't  you  gwine  to  gib  me  piece  o'  good  tobacco, 

please  ? 
I's  'long  wid  you  in  Georgia,  time  we  all  wuz  refugees. 

I  know'd  you  would ;  I  alluz  tells  the  people,  white  an' 

black, 
Dat    you's    a   r'al    gen'Pman,    an'    dat's    de    libin' 

fac'  — 
Yes,  sah,  dat's  what  I  tells  'em,  an'  it's  nuffin  else  but 

true, 
An*  all  de  cullud  people  thinks  a  mighty  heap  ob 

you. 

'9 


20  BUSINESS  IN  MISSISSIPPI 

Look  heah,  sah,  don't  you  want  to  buy  some  cotton  ? 

Yes,  you  do ; 

Dere's  oder  people  wants  it,  but  I'd  rader  sell  to  you. 
How  much  ?    Oh,  jes  a  bale  —  dat  on  de  wagon  in  de 

street — 
Dis  heah's  de  sample,  —  dis  cotton's  mighty  hard  to 

beat! 

You'll  fin' it  on  de  paper,  what  de  offers  is  dat's  made; 
Dey's   all   de  same  seditions, — half  in  cash,  half  in 

trade. 
Dey's  mighty  low,  sah  •  come,  now,  can't  you  'prove 

upon  de  rates 
Dat  Barrot  Brothers  offers  —  only  twelb   an*  geben- 

eights  ? 

Lord,  Mahsr  Johnny,  raise  it!  Don't  you  know  dat 

I's  a  frien', 

An'  when  I  has  de  money  I  is  willin'  fur  to  spenf  ? 
My  custom's  wuff  a  heap,  sah ;  jes  you  buy  de  bale  an' 

see. 
Dere  didn't  nebber  nobody  lose  nuffin  off  ob  me. 


BUSINESS  IN  MISSISSIPPI  21 

Now,  what's  de  use  ob  gwine  dere  an'  a-zaminin'  ob  de 

bale? 
When  people  trades  wid  me  dey  alluz  gits  an  hones' 

sale; 

I  ain't  no  han'  fur  cheatin' ;  I  beliebes  in  actin*  fa'r, 
An'  ebry-body'll  tell  you  dey  alluz  foun'  me  squar'. 

I  isn't  like  some  niggers ;  I  declar'  it  is  a  shame 

De  way  some  ob  dem  swin'les — What !  de  cotton  ain't 

de  same 

As  dat's  in  de  sample !  well,  I'm  blest,  sah,  ef  it  is ! 
Dis  heah  must  be  my  bruddefs  sample  — Yes,  sah,  dis 

is  his. 

If  dat  don't  beat  creation !  Heah  I've  done  been  totin' 

'round 
A  sample  different  from  de  cotton !    I  —  will  —  be  — 

consound ! 
Mahsr  Johnny,  you  must  scuse  me.     Take  de  cotton 

as  it  Stan's, 
An'  tell  me  ef  you're  willin'  fur  to  take  it  off  my 

han's. 

3 


22  BUSINESS  IN  MISSISSIPPI 

Sho !  nebber  min'  de  auger !  'tain't  a  bit  o'  use  to  bore; 
De  bale  is  all  de  same's  dis  heah  place  de  baggin's 

tore; 

You  oughtn't  to  go  pullin'  out  de  cotton  dat  a- way ; 
It  spiles  de  beauty  ob  de  —  What,  sah !  rocks  in  dar, 

you  say ! 

Rocks  in  dat  ar  cotton  !   How  de  debbil  kin  dat  be  ? 
I  packed  dat  bale  myse'f — hoi'  on  a  minute,  le' — me — 

see  — 

My  stars !  I  mus'  be  crazy !  Mahsr  Johnny,  dis  is  fine  ! 
I's  gone  an*  hauled  my  brudder's  cotton  in,  instead 

ob  mine ! 


SELLING  A  DOG 

H'YAR,  Pot-liquor !  What  you  at  ?  You  heah  me  call- 
in'  you  ? 

H'yar,  sah !  Come  an'  tell  dis  little  gemmen  howdy-do ! 
Dar,  sah,  airft  dat  puppy  jes  as  fat  as  he  kin  roll  ? 
Maybe  you  won't  b'liebe  it,  but  he's  only  six  mon's  oF  1 

'Coon  dog  ?   Lord !   young  marster,  he's  jes  at  'em  all 

de  while; 

/  b'liebe  dat  he  kin  smell  a  'coon  fur  half-a-mile. 
I  don'  like  to  sell  him,  fur  he's  wuf  his  weight  in  gol' ; 
If  you  didn't  want  him,  sah,  he  nebber  should  be  sol'. 

If  you  takes  him  off  wid  you,  I'll  feel  like  I  wuz  lost. 
He's  de  bes'  young  fightin'-dog  I  ebber  come  acrost. 
Jes  look  at  dem  eyes,  young  marster ;  what  a  sabbage 

face!  — 

He  won't  let  no  stranger  nigger  come  about  de  place. 
23 


24  SELLING  A   DOG 

You  know   Henry  Wilson's  Bob,   dat  whipped  your 

fader's  Dan  ? 

Pot-liquor  jes  chucked  dat  dog  so  bad  he  couldn't  stan'! 
Well,  sah,  if  you  wants  him,  now  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll 

do,- 
You  kin  hab  him  fur  a  dollar,  seein's  how  it's  you. 

Now,  Marster  Will,  you  knows  it — he's  wuf  mo'n  dat,  a 

heap; 

R'al'y,  I's  a-doin'  wrong  to  let  him  go  so  cheap. 
Don't  you  tell  nobody,  now,  what  wuzde price  you  paid — 
My  ol*  'oman's  gwine  to  gib  me  fits,  sah,  I's  afraid! 

T'anks  you,  sah !  Good-mornin',  sah !  You  tell  yo'  ma, 

fur  me, 

I  has  got  de  fines'  turkeys  dat  she  ebber  see ; 
Dey  is  jes  as  good  as  any  pusson  ebber  eat. 
If  she  wants  a  gobbler,  let  her  sen'  to  Uncle  Pete. 

Dar !  I's  done  got  rid  ob  dat  ar  wretched  dog  at  las' ! 
Drownin'  time  wuz  comin'  fur  him  mighty  precious  fas' ! 
Sol'  him  fur  a  dollar — well !  An'  goodness  knows  de  pup 
Isn't  wuf  de  powder  it'd  take  to  blow  him  up ! 


UNCLE   NICK  ON    FISHING 

IT  alluz  sets  me  laughin',  when  I  happens  to  be  roun', 
To  see  a  lot  ob  gemmen  come  a-fishin'  from  de  town ! 
Dey  waits  tell  arter  bre'kfus  'fore  dey  ebber  makes  a 

start, 
An1  den  you  sees  'em  comin'  in  a  leetle  Jarsey  kyart. 

Now,  Jarsey  kyarts  is  springy — so,  to  hab  a  studdy  seat, 
De  gemmen's  'bliged  to  ballus  her  wid  suffin  good  to 

eat; 
An'  Jarsey  kyarts  runs  better  —  so  de  gemmen  seems 

to  think  — 
By  totin'  'long  a  demijohn  of  suffin  good  to  drink. 

When  dey  gits  at  de  fishin' place,  it's 'stonishin'  indeed — 
Sech  tricks  to  go  a-fishin'  wid  nobody  nebber  seed ! 
Dey  poles  is  put  togedder  wid  a  dozen  j'ints  ob  tin, 
An'  has  a  block-an'-tickle  fur  to  wind  de  fishes  in ! 


26  UNCLE  NICK  ON  FISHING 

De  gemmens  makes  a  heap  o'  fuss,  an'  skeers  de  fishes  off; 
An'  den  dey  takes  an'  sots  de  poles,  some  place  de 

bank  is  sof ' ; 

An'  den  dey  hunts  a  shady  place,  an'  settles  on  de  grass, 
An'  pruzently  you  heahs  'em :  "  Dat  a  spade  ?  I  has  to 

pass!" 

St.  Petah  wuz  a  fisherman,  an'  un'erstood  his  trade; 
He  staid  an'  watched  his  cork,  instid  ob  laz'in'  in  de 

shade. 

De  gemmen  is  copyin'  arter  him  —  dey  better  be ! 
Or — Ps  a  science  fisherman — 't'u'd  do  to  copy  me. 

When  I  starts  out  a-fishin',  I  puts  on  my  ol'est  clo'es — 
Dey  age  is  putty  toPable,  you'd  nat'rally  suppose ! 
I  gits  up  in  de  mohnin',  long  afore  de  sun  has  riz, 
An'  grabbles  wums,  /tell  you! — like  de  yurly  bird  I  is. 

I's  alluz  berry  'tic'lar  'bout  de  season  ob  de  moon : 
De  dark  ob  it  is  fishin'  time — an'  time  for  huntin'  'coon  ; 
An'  I's  be'n  fishin'  nuff  to  know,  as  notus  mus'  be  tuk 
Ob  van's  leetle  sarcumstances  bearin'  on  de  luck : 


UNCLE  NICK  ON  FISHING  27 

You  has  to  spit  upon  de  bait,  afore  you  draps  it  in  ; 
Mus'  keep  yo'  cork  a-bobbin', —  des  as  easy  as  you  kin; 
Ef  some  one  steps  acrost  yo'  pole,  yo'  luck  is  shorely 

broke, 
Widout  dey  steps  it  back  ag'in,  afore  a  word  is  spoke. 

Untel  you  quits  a-fishin',  don't  you  nebber  count  yo' 

string; 

Fur  ef  you  do,  you's  sartin  not  to  cotch  anoder  thing ; 
But  ef  a  sarpent-doctor  bug  sh'u'd  'light  upon  de  pole, 
You  knows  you's  good  fur  cotchin'  all  de  fishes  in  de 

hole. 

Dar,  now !  you's  got  de  1'arnin'  what  a  fisherman  sh'u'd 

know; 

So,  when  you's  ready,  all  you  has  to  do's  to  up  an'  go, 
An'  foller  dem  instruckshums  —  ef  you  does  it,  to  de 

notch, 
Good  Marster !  won't  it  s'prise  de  folks  to  see  de  mess 

you  cotch ! 


NORVERN    PEOPLE 

DEM  folks  in  de  Norf  is  de  beatin'est  lot ! 
Wid  all  de  brass  buttons  an'  fixin's  dey  got  — 
You  needn't  tole  me! — dey  all  dresses  in  blue: 
I  seed  'em  de  time  'at  Grant's  army  come  froo. 

Dey  libs  up  de  country,  whar  ellyphunts  grows, 
Somewhar  'bout  de  head  ob  de  ribber,  I  s'pose ; 
Whar  snow  keeps  a-drappin,  spring,  winter,  an'  fall, 
An'  summer-time  don't  nebber  git  dar  at  all. 

Up  dar  in  dey  town  dar's  a  mighty  great  hole 
Dey  dug  fur  to  git  at  de  silber  an'  gol' : 
I  reckon  heah  lately  it  mus'  ha'  cabed  in — 
I  wish  I  c'u'd  see  a  good  two-bits  ag'in ! 

Dey  puts  up  supplies  for  us  Christuns  to  eat, — 

De  whisky,  de  flouah,  de  meal,  an'  de  meat ; 
28 


NORVERN  PEOPLE  29 

Dey's  dreffle  big-feelin',  an'  makes  a  great  fuss, 
But  dey  cain't  git  along  widout  wukin'  for  us. 

I  wouldn't  be  dem,  not  fur  all  you  c'u'd  gib : 
Dey  nebber  tas'e  'possum  as  long  as  dey  lib ! 
Dey  w'u'dn't  know  gumbo,  ef  put  in  dey  mouf — 
Why  don't  dey  all  sell  out  an'  come  to  de  Souf  ? 

But  lawsy !  dey's  ign'ant  as  ign'ant  kin  be, 
An'  ain't  got  de  presence  ob  min'  fur  to  see 
Dat  ol'  Marsissippi's  jes  ober  de  fence 
Dat  runs  aroun'  hebben's  sarcumferymence ! 

Now,  us  dat  is  fabored  wid  wisdom  an'  grace, 
An'  had  de  fus'  pick  fur  a  'sirable  place, 
We  ought  fur  to  'member  de  duty  we  owes, 
To  sheer  wid  our  brudders  as  fur  as  it  goes. 

So  sometime  in  chu'ch  I's  a-gwine  to  serjes 
Dat  some-un  be  sent  what  kin  talk  to  'em  bes* — 
(An'  mebbe  dat's  me)  fur  to  open  deir  eyes, 
Recomstruc  de  pore  critters,  an'  help  'em  to  rise. 


30  NORVERN  PEOPLE 

We'll  fetch  'em  down  heah,  de  las'  one  ob  de  batch, 
An'  treat  'em  like  gemmen,  an'  rent  'em  a  patch — 
Why,  dat's  de  Merlennium !     Dat's  what  it  am ; 
An'  us  is  de  lion,  an'  dey  is  de  lamb ! 


WHEREFORE    HE    PRAYS    THAT    A    WAR 
RANT    MAY   ISSUE 

Is  YOU  de  jestis  ob  de  peace  ?  I  has  a  little  case 
About  a  little  matter,  sah,  what  happened  on  de  place. 
I's  nuffin  but  a  nigger,  but  has  feelin's,  all  de  same, 
An'  de  way  dat  Mahsr  Henry  went  an'  done  me  wuz 
a  shame. 

Las'  spring  I  foun'  a  little  chicken  runnin*  in  de  road ; 

I  tuk  it  to  de  quarters,  an'  kep'  it  till  it  growed. 

I   nebber  stole  it ;   kase  de  law   sez  ebrythin'   you 

fin' 
Belongs  to  you ;  an'  so,  ob  co'se,  dat  chicken,  he  wuz 

mine. 

A  week  dis  comin*  Thu'sday,  I  wuz  comin'  from  de 

fiel', 

An'  happened  fur  to  'member  I  wuz  out  ob  meat  an'  meal ; 
31 


32   HE   PRAYS   THAT  A   WARRANT  MAY  ISSUE 

So  I  begins  to  study  'bout  what  I's  a-gwine  to  do  — 
An'  thinks,  sez  I,  "  Dat  chicken's  shorely  big  enough 
to  stew." 

When  I  gits  to  de  quarters,  den  I  sez  unto  my  wife, — 
I  wouldn't  tell  a  lie  to  you,  sah,  not  to  sabe  my  life, — 
"  Hey,  Phyllis,  gal,"  sez  I,  des  so,  "  run  out  dar  in  de 

lot, 
An'  cotch  dat  Dominica  fur  to  bile  him  in  de  pot.'' 

Sez  she  to  me,  "  I  'low  myse'f,  he  would  eat  tol'ble 

good; 
But  how  I  gwine  to  cook  him,  when  I  isn't  got  no 

wood?" 
Dat  wuz  de  conbersatiorm,  sah;  I  gibe  it  word  fur 

word, 
An*  Phyllis  she  can  testify  as  dat  wuz  what  occurred. 

Sez  I, "You  kill  de  chicken.     Does  you  think  I's  los' 

my  sense  ?  " 
An'  I  went  to  Mahsr's  wood-pile,  in  de  corner  ob  de 

fence. 


HE  PRAYS  THAT  A   WARRANT  MAY  ISSUE  33 

I  looked  an'  didn't  see  nobody,  heard  nobody  speak, 
An'  so  I  toted  off  enough  to  do  me  fur  a  week. 

I  nebber  thought  ob  stealin'  when  I  tuk  dat  wood  away, 
For  ebry  stick  I  'spected  to  return  some  oder  day ; 
An'  ef  a  man  cain't  borry  wood  what's  layin'  out  ob  nights, 
I'd  like  fur  you  to  tell  me  what's  the  good  ob  swivel 
rights  ? 

Well !  Phyllis  picked  de  chicken,  an'  she  soused  him  in 

de  pot; 

De  fire  wuz  burnin'  libely  an'  de  water  gittin'  hot ; 
When  somefin  went  boo-room !  boo-room !  right  in  de 

chimney-place, 
An*  all  de  fire  an'  ashes  come  a-scootin'  in  my  face. 

I  thought  it  was  de  debbil,  an'  it  skeered  me'  mos'  to  deff; 
De  smoke  puffed  out  so  hebby  I  could  skacely  draw  my 

breff; 
De  wood,  de  pot,  de  chicken,  dey  went  flyin'  crost  de 

floah, 
An'  me  an'  Phyllis  had  important  bizness  at  de  doah. 


34  HE  PRAYS   THAT  A   WARRANT  MAY  ISSUE 

De  folks  dey  come  a-runnin';  dar  wuz  Bob  an'  Pete  an' 

Bill; 

An'  heah  come  Mahsr  Henry  des  a-laughin'  fit  to  kill — 
Sez  he,  "  I  knowed,  you  rascal,  you  wuz  takin'  wood 

away, 
An'  I  put  a  poun'  o'  powder  in  a  holler  stick  to-day." 

Dat's  why  I  want  a  warrant,  sah ;  my  rights  is  all  I  ax, 
An'  I  has  lots  o'  witnesses  to  summons  to  de  fac's. 
I  scorns  to  be  imposed  on ;  an'  I  'peals  unto  de  law 
To  go  fur  Mahsr  Henry,  sah,  an'  bring  him  up  to  taw. 


THE    MISSISSIPPI   WITNESS 

YOAH  HONAH,  AN'  DE  JURY  :  Ef  you'll  listen,  now,  to 

me, 

Fs  gwine  to  straighten  up  dis  case  jes  like  it  ought  to  be. 
Dis  heah's  a  case  ob  stealin'  hogs  —  a  mighty  ser'ous 

Tense  — 
An'  you'll  know  all  about  it,  when  I  gibs  my  ebbydence. 

Dis  Peter  Jones,  de  plainter,  is  a  member  ob  de  chu'ch, 
But  Thomas  Green,  de  fender,  goodness  knows  he's 

nuffin  much; 

A  lazy,  triflin'  nigger  is  dat  berry  Thomas  Green  — 
Dese  is  de  dif 'rent  parties  you  is  called  to  jedge  atween. 

Now  gib  me  stric'  contention  while  I  'lucidates  de 

fec'j 
Dere's  two  whole  sides  to  eberyt'ing, — de  front  one  an' 

de  back, — 

35 


36  THE  MISSISSIPPI  WITNESS 

What's  dat   de  little  lawyer  say  ?   To  talk  about  de 

case  ? 
Dat's  jes  what  I  wuz  comin'  to ;  you  makes  me  lose  de 

place. 

Whar  wuz  I  ?  Oh !  I  'members ;  I  wuz  jes  about  to 
say, 

I  heered  a  disputation  'bout  a  p'int  of  law  to 
day; 

'Bout  how  to  turn  State's  ebbydence  —  dat's  what  dey's 
dribin'  at  — 

Now  ain't  it  strange  some  niggers  is  so  ignorant  as 
dat? 

Why,  when  you  wants  to  turn  it,  you  jes  has  to  come 
to  town, 

An'  fin'  de  Deestric  Turner  —  he'll  be  somewhar  loafin' 
'roun' — 

An'  den  sez  you,  "  Mahsr  Turner,  sah,  I  zires  my  com 
pliments  ; 

I's  come  in  town  to  see  you,  fur  to  turn  State's  ebby 
dence." 


THE  MISSISSIPPI  WITNESS  37 

As  soon's  you  tells  him  dat,  he  knows  perzackly  what 

you  mean, 
An'  takes  you  to  his  office,  whar  he's  got  a  big  mer- 

sheen, 
An'  dar  you  cotches  hoi'  de  crank,  an'  den  you  turns 

away, 
Untel  at  las'  dar's  somefin  clicks,  an'  den  you's  come 

to  A. 

"  Is  dat  de  letter  ob  de  thing  de  feller  done  ?  "  sez 

he; 
Ef  you  sez  no,   you   turns   ag'in  untel   you  comes 

to  B; 
An'  so   you  keeps   a-turnin',  tell   de  right   one  gits 

aroun', 
An'  dar  de  Deestric  Turner  looks,  an'  dar  de  law  is 

foun'. 

An'  den  you  gibs  de  fac's,  an'  den  he  reads  the  law  to 

you, 
An'  axes  you  to  'vise  him  what  you  t'ink  he  ought  to 

do; 

4 


38  THE  MISSISSIPPI  WITNESS 

An'  den  he  say  "  good-mornin',"  an'  he  gibs  you  fifty 

cents, 
An'  dat's  de  way  you  has  to  do  to  turn  State's  ebby- 

dence. 

Well,  gemmen  ob  de  jury,  dis  heah  case  is  understood. 
I  doesn't  know  de  hog  wuz  stole,  but  Peter's  word  is 

good. 

He  up  an'  sesso  manfully,  dout  makin'  any  bones ; 
An'  darfore,  sahs,  ef  I  wuz  you,  I  t'ink  I'd  'cide  for 

Jones. 


BLIND    NED 

WHO  is  dat  ar  a-playin'  ?     Shucks  !     I  wish  I  wuzn't 

blin'; 
But  when  de  Lord  he  tuk  my  eyes,  he  lef '  my  yeahs 

behin'. 
Is  dat  you,  Mahsr  Bob  ?     I  fought  I  reco'nized  your 

bowin' ; 
I  said  I  knowed  'twas  you,  soon's  I  heered  de  fiddle 

goin'. 

Sho!    dat  ain't  right!    jes'  le'  me  show  you  how  to 

play  dat  tune ; 
I  feel   like  I  could   make   de  fiddle   talk   dis   arter- 

noon. 
Now  don't  you  see  that  counter's  jes  a  leetle  bit  too 

high? 
Well,  nebber  min';  I  guess  you'll  learn  to  tune  her 

by  an'  by. 

39 


4°  BLIND  NED 

You's  jes  like  all  musicianers  dat  learns  to  play  by 

note: 

You  ain't  got  music  in  you,  so  you  has  to  hab  it  wrote. 
Now  dat  ain't  science  —  why  de  debbil  don't  you  play 

by  yeah  ? 
For  dat's  de  onlies'  kin'  ob  music  fittin'  fur  to  heah. 

Do  you  suppose,  when  David  wuz  a-pickin'  on  de 

harp, 

He  ebber  knowed  de  difference  atwixt  a  flat  an'  sharp  ? 
But  any  tune  you  called  fur,  he  could  pick  it  all  de 

same, 
For  David  knowed  de  music,  dough  he  didn't  know 

de  name. 

Now  what  shall  I  begin  on  ?     Somefin  lively,  fas',  an* 

quick  ? 
Well,  sah,  jes  pay  attention,  an'  I'll  gib  you  "  Cap'n 

Dick." 
Yah !  yah !  young  mahsr,  don't  you  feel  jes  like  you 

want  to  pat  ? 
You'll  hab  to  practice  fur  a  while  afore  you  ekals  dat ! 


BLIND  NED  41 

Dere  ain't  nobody  'roim'  dis  place  kin  play  wid  Uncle 

Ned; 

Dey  isn't  got  it  in  deir  fingers,  neider  in  deir  head; 
Dat  fiddler  Bill  dey  talks  about  —  I  heered  him  play 

a  piece, 
An'  I  declar'  it  sounded  like  a  fox  among  de  geese. 

A  violeen  is  like  an  'ooman,  mighty  hard  to  guide, 
An'  mighty  hard  to  keep  in  order  arter  once  it's  buyed. 
Dere's  alluz  somefin  'bout  it  out  ob  kelter,  more  or 

less, 
An'  'tain't  de  fancies'-lookin'  ones  dat  alluz  does  de 

bes'. 

Dis  yer's  a  splendid  inst'ument  —  I  'spec'  it  cost  a 

heap; 

You  r'al'y  ought  to  let  me  hab  dis  fiddle  fur  to  keep. 
It  ain't  no  use  to  you,  sah ;  fur,  widout  it's  in  de  man, 
He  cain't  git  music  out  de  fines'  fiddle  in  de  Ian'. 

It  'quires  a  power  ob  science  fur  to  fiddle,  sah,  you  see, 
An'  science  comes  by  natur';  dat's  de  way  it  is  wid  me. 


42  BLIND  NED 

But  Lord !  dat  Bill !  It  'muses  me  to  heah  him  talkin' 

big; 
You  never  heered  a  braggin'  fiddler  play  a  decent  jig ! 

Dat  Bill,  he  is  a  caution,  sah  !    I  wonder  now  whar  he 
An'  oder  folks  I  knows  of — yes,  I  wonder  whar'll 

dey  be 
In  hebben,  when  de  music's  playin',  an'  de  angels 

shout  — 
If  Bill  should  jine  de  chorus,  dey  would  hab  to  put 

him  out. 

Well,  good-bye,  Mahsr  Bob,  sah;  when  you's  nuffm 

else  to  do 
Jes  sen'  fur  dis  oP  darky,  an'  he'll  come  an'  play  fur 

you; 

An'  don't  gib  up  your  practisin' —  you's  only  sebenteen, 
An'  maybe  when  you's  oF  as  me  you'll  play  the  violeen. 


MAHSR  JOHN 

I  HEAHS  a  heap  o'  people  talking  ebrywhar  I 
goes, 

'Bout  Washintum  an'  Franklum,  an'  sech  gen'uses  as 
dose; 

I  s'pose  dey's  mighty  fine,  but  heah's  de  p'int  I's  bet- 
tin'  on  : 

Dere  wuzn't  nar  a  one  ob  'em  come  up  to  Mahsr 
John. 

He  shorely  wuz  de   greates'  man  de  country  ebber 

growed. 
You  better  had  git  out  de  way  when  he  come  'long 

de  road ! 
He  hel*  his  head  up  dis  way,  like  he  'spised  to  see  de 

groun'; 
An'  niggers  had  to  toe  de  mark  when  Mahsr  John  wuz 

roun'. 

43 


44  MAHSR  JOHN 

I  only  has  to  shet  my  eyes,  an'  den  it  seems  to  me 
I  sees  him  right  afore  me  now,  jes  like  he  use'  to  be, 
A-settin'  on  de  gal'iy,  lookin'  awful  big  an'  wise, 
Wid  little  niggers  fannin'  him  to  keep  away  de  flies. 

He  alluz  wore  de  berry  bes'  ob  planters'  linen  suits, 
An'  kep'  a  nigger  busy  jes  a-blackin*  ob  his  boots  ; 
De  buckles  on  his  galluses  wuz  made  of  solid  goP, 
An'  diamon's !  —  dey  wuz  in  his  shut  as  thick  as  it 
would  hoi'. 

You  heered  me!    'twas  a  caution,  when  he  went  to 

take  a  ride, 
To   see   him   in   de   kerridge,  wid  ol'  Mistis  by  his 

side  — 

Mulatter  Bill  a-dribin',  an'  a  nigger  on  behin', 
An'  two  Kaintucky  hosses  tuk  'em  tearin*  whar  dey 

gwine. 

Ol'  Mahsr  John  wuz  pow'ful  rich  —  he  owned  a  heap 

o'  Ian' : 
Fibe  cotton  places,  'sides  a  sugar  place  in  Loozyan* ; 


MAHSR  JOHN  45 

He    had    a    thousan'   niggers  —  an'   he   wuked   'em, 

shore's  you  born ! 
De  oberseahs  'u'd  start  'em  at  de  breakin'  ob  de  morn. 

I  reckon  dere  wuz  forty  ob  de  niggers,  young  an'  ol,' 
Dat  staid  about  de  big  house  jes  to  do  what  dey 

wuz  tol' ; 

Dey  had  a'  easy  time,  wid  skacely  any  work  at  all  — 
But  dey  had  to  come  a-runnin'  when  ol'  Mahsr  John 

'u'd  call ! 

Sometimes  he'd  gib  a  frolic  —  dat's  de  time  you  seed 

de  fun : 

De  'ristocratic  fam'lies,  dey  'u'd  be  dar,  ebry  one ; 
Dey'd  hab  a  band  from  New  Orleans  to  play  for  'em 

to  dance, 
An'  tell  you  what,  de  supper  wuz  a  'tic'lar  sarcumstance. 

Well,  times  is  changed.     De  war  it  come  an'  sot  de 

niggers  free, 
An'  now  ol'  Mahsr  John  ain't  hardly  wuf  as  much  as 

me; 


46  MAHSR  JOHN 

He  had  to  pay  his  debts,  an1  so  his  Ian*  is  mos'ly 

gone  — 
An'  I  declar'  I's  sorry  fur  my  pore  ol'  Mahsr  John. 

But  when  I  heahs  'em  talkin'  'bout  some  sullybrated 

man, 

I  listens  to  'em  quiet,  till  dey  done  said  all  dey  can, 
An'  den  I  'lows  dot  in  dem  days  'at  I  remembers  on, 
Dat  gemman  warn't  a  patchin'  onto  my  ol'  Mahsr 

John! 


PRECEPTS   AT   PARTING 

WELL,  son,  so  you's  gwine  for  to  leab  us,  yo'  lubbin' 

oF  mammy  an'  me, 
An'  set  yo'se'f  up  as  a  waiter,  aboa'd  ob  de  Robbut 

E.  Lee, 
Along  wid  dem  fancy  young  niggers,  what's  'shamed  fur 

to  look  at  a  hoe, 
An'  acts  like  a  passel  ob  rich  folks,  when  dey  isn't  got 

nuffin  to  show. 

You's  had  better  trainin'  dan  dey  has  —  I  hopes  'at 

you'll  zibit  more  sense; 
Sech  niggers  is  like  a  young  rooster,  a-settin'  up  top 

ob  a  fence : 
He  keeps  on  a-stretchin'  an'  crowin',  an',  while  he's 

a-blowin'  his  horn, 
Dem  chickens  what  ain't  arter  fussin'  is  pickin'  up  all 

ob  de  com. 

47 


48  PRECEPTS  AT  PARTING 

Now  listen,  an'  min'  what  I  tell  you,  an'  don't  you 

forgit  what  I  say ; 
Take  advice  ob  a  'sperienced  pussen,  an'  you'll  git  up 

de  ladder  an'  stay  : 
Who  knows  ?    You  mought  git  to  be  Pres'dent,  or  jes- 

tice,  perhaps,  ob  de  peace  — 
De  man  what  keeps  pullin'  de  grape-vine  shakes  down 

a  few  bunches  at  leas'. 

Dem  niggers  what  runs  on  de  ribber  is  mos'ly  a  mighty 

sharp  set; 
Dey'd  fin'  out  some  way  fur  to  beat  you,  ef  you  bet  'em 

de  water  wuz  wet ; 
You's  got  to  watch  out  for  dem  fellers;   dey'd  cheat 

off.de  horns  ob  a  cow. 
I  knows  'em ;  I  follered  de  ribber  'fore  ebber  I  follered 

a  plow. 

You'll  easy  git  'long  wid  de  white  folks, —  de  Cappen 

an'  steward  an'  clerks, — 
Dey  won't  say  a  word  to  a  nigger,  as  long  as  dey  notice 

he  works; 


PRECEPTS  AT  PARTING  49 

An'  work  is   de   onlies'  ingine   we's  any  'casion   to 

tote, 
To  keep  us  gwine  on  troo  de  currents  dat  pesters  de 

spirichul  boat. 

I  heered  dat  idee  from  a  preacher :  he  'lowed  'at  dis 

life  wuz  a  stream, 
An'  ebry  one's  soul  wuz  a  packet  dat  run  wid  a  full 

head  ob  steam ; 
Dat  some  ob  'em's  only  stern- wheelers,  while  oders  wuz 

mons'ously  fine — 
An'  de  trip  wuz  made  safes'  an'  quickes'  by  boats  ob 

de  Mefodis  line. 

I  wants  you,  my  son,  to  be  'tic'lar,  an'  'sociate  only  wid 
dey 

Dat's  'titled  to  go  in  de  cabin — don't  neber  hab  nuffin 
to  say 

To  dem  low-minded  roustabout  niggers  what  han'les  de 
cotton  below  — 

Dem  common  brack  rascals  ain't  fittin'  for  no  cabin-wait 
er  to  know. 


50  PRECEPTS  AT  PARTING 

But  nebber  git  airy:  be  'spectful  to  all  de  white  people 

you  see; 
An'  nebber  go  back  on  de  raisin'  you's  had  from  your 

mammy  an'  me. 
It's  hard  on  your  mudder,  your  leabin' — I  don'  know 

whatebber  she'll  do ; 
An'  shorely  your  fader  '11  miss  you — I'll  alluz  be  thinkin' 

ob  you. 

Well,  now  I's  done  tol*  you  my  say-so.  Dar  ain't  nuffin 
more  as  I  knows  — 

'Cept  dis :  don't  you  nebber  come  back,  sah,  widout  you 
has  money  an'  clo'es. 

I's  kep'  you  as  long  as  I's  gwine  to,  an'  now  you  an* 
me  we  is  done  — 

An'  calves  is  too  skace  in  dis  country  to  kill  fur  a  prod 
igal  son. 


HALF-WAY   DOIN'S 

BELUBBED  fellah-trabelers :  —  In  holdin'  forth  to-day, 
I  doesn't  quote  no  special  verse  fur  whut  I  has  to  say; 
De  sermon  will  be  berry  short,  an'  dis  here  am  de  tex' : 
Dat  half-way  doin's  ain't  no  'count  fur  dis  worP  or  de 
nex*. 

Dis  worP  dat  we's  a-libbin'  in  is  like  a  cotton-row, 
Whar  ebery  cullud  gentleman  has  got  his  line  to  hoe ; 
An'  ebery  time  a  lazy  nigger  stops  to  take  a  nap, 
De  grass  keeps  on  a-growin'  fur  to  smudder  up  his  crap. 

When  Moses  led  de  Jews  acrost  de  waters  ob  de  sea, 
Dey  had  to  keep  a-goin'  jes  as  fas'  as  fas'  could  be ; 
Do  you  s'pose  dat  dey  could  ebber  hab  succeeded  in 

deir  wish, 
An'  reached  de  Promised  Land  at  las'  —  if  dey  had 

stopped  to  fish  ? 


$2  HALF-  WA  Y  DOIN'S 

My  frien's,  dar  wuz  a  garden  once,  whar  Adam  libbed 
wid  Eve, 

Wid  no  one  'roun'  to  bodder  dem,  no  neighbors  fur 
to  thieve; 

An'  ebery  day  wuz  Christmas,  an'  dey  got  deir  rations 
free, 

An'  ebery t'ing  belonged  to  dem  except  an  apple- 
tree. 

You  all  know  'bout  de  story  —  how  de  snake  come 

snoopin'  'roun', — 
A     stump-tail     rusty     moccasin,    a-crawlin'    on    de 

groun',— 
How   Eve   an'  Adam  ate  de  fruit  an'  went  an'  hid 

deir  face, 
Till  de  angel  oberseer,  he  come  an'  drove  'em  off  de 

place. 

Now,  s'pose  dat  man  an'  ooman  hadn't  'tempted  fur 

to  shirk, 
But  had  gone  about  deir  gardenin',  an'  'tended  to 

deir  work, 


HALF-WAY  DOINGS  53 

Dey  wouldn't  hab  been  loafin'  whar  dey  had  no  busi 
ness  to, 

An*  de  debbil  nebber'd  got  a  chance  to  tell  'em  whut 
to  do. 

No  half-way  doin's,  bredren !     It'll  nebber  do,  I  say ! 
Go  at  your  task  an'  finish  it,  an'  den's  de  time  to 

play; 

Fur  eben  if  de  crap  is  good,  de  rain'll  spile  the  bolls, 
Unless    you  keeps    a-pickin'  in  de    garden  ob  yo' 

souls. 

Keep  a-plowin',  an'  a-hoein',  an'  a-scrapin'  ob  de  rows, 
An'  when  de  ginnin's  ober  you  can  pay  up  whut  you 

owes; 

But  if  you  quits  a-workin'  ebery  time  de  sun  is  hot, 
De  sheriff's  gwine  to  lebby  upon  eberyt'ing  you's  got. 

Whuteber  'tis  you's  dribin'  at,  be  shore  an'  dribe  it 

through, 
An'  don't  let  numn  stop  you,  but  do  whut  you's  gwine 

to  do; 

5 


54  HALF-  WA  Y  DOIN'S 

Fur  when  you  sees  a  nigger  foolin',  den,  as  shore's 

you're  born, 

• 
You's  gwine  to  see  him  comin*  out  de  small  eend  ob 

de  horn. 

I  thanks  you  for  de  Mention  you  has  gib  dis  after 
noon — 

Sister  Williams  will  oblige  us  by  a-raisin'  ob  a  tune  — 

I  see  dat  Brudder  Johnson's  'bout  to  pass  aroun'  de 
hat, 

An'  don't  let's  hab  no  half-way  doin's  when  it  comes 
to  dat ! 


A  SERMON   FOR  THE   SISTERS 

I  NEBBER  breaks  a  colt   afore   he's   old  enough  to 

trabbel ; 
I  nebber  digs  my  taters  tell  dey  plenty  big  to 

grabble. 
An*  when  you  sees  me  risin*  up  to  structify  in 

meetin', 
I's  fust  dumb  up  de  knowledge-tree  an'  done  some 

apple-eatin'. 

I  sees  some  sistahs  pruzint,  mighty  proud  o'  whut  dey 

wearin' : 
It's  well  you  isn't  apples,  now,  you  better  be  de- 

clarin'! 
Fur  when  ye  heerd  yo'  markit-price,  't'd  hurt  yo'  little 

feelin's: 
You  wouldn't  fotch  a  dime  a  peck,  fur  all  yo'  fancy 

peelin's. 

55 


5<$  A   SERMON  FOR   THE  SISTERS 

0  sistahs! — leetle  apples  (fur  you're  r'ally  mighty  like 

'em)  — 

1  lubs   de  ol'-time  russets,  dough  it's  suldom  I  kin 

strike  'em ; 
An*  so  I  lubs  you,  sistahs,  fur  yo'  grace,  an'  not  yo' 

graces  — 
I  don't  keer  how  my  apple  looks,  but  on'y  how  it 

tas'es. 

Is  dey  a  Sabbaf-scholah  heah  ?  Den  let  him  'form  his 

mudder 
How  Jacob-in-de-Bible's  boys   played  off  upon  dey 

brudder ! 
Dey  sol'  him  to  a  trader — an*  at  las'  he  struck  de 

prison ; 
Dat  corned  ob  Joseph's  struttin'  in  dat  streaked  coat 

ob  his'n. 

My  Christian  frien's,  dis  story  proobs  dat  eben  men  is 

human  — 
He'd  had   a  dozen  fancy  coats,  ef  he'd  'a*  been  a 

'ooman ! 


A   SERMON  FOR   THE  SISTERS  57 

De  cussidness  ob  showin'  off,  he  foun'  out  all  about 

it; 
An'  yit   he  wuz  a  Christian  man,  as   good  as  ever 

shouted. 

It  Tamed  him !  An'  I  bet  you  when  he  come  to  git  his 

riches 
Dey    didn't    go    fur    stylish    coats    or    Philadelphy 

breeches ; 
He  didn't  was'e  his  money  when  experunce  taught  him 

better, 
But   went   aroun'   a-lookin'  like   he's   waitin'  fur   a 

letter ! 

Now,  sistahs,  won't  you  copy  him  ?  Say,  won't  you  take 

a  lesson, 
An'  min'  dis  sollum   wahnin'  'bout   de   sin  ob  fancy 

dressin'  ? 
How  much  you  spen'  upon  yo'self !  I  wish  you  might 

remember 
Yo'  preacher  ain't  been  paid  a  cent  sence  somewhat  in 

November. 


58  A   SERMON  FOR   THE  SISTERS 

I  better  close.     I  sees  some  gals  dis  sahmon's  kinder 

hittin' 
A-whisperin',  an'  'sturbin'   all   dat's  near  whar  dey's 

a-sittin'; 

To  look  at  dem,  an*  listen  at  dey  onrespec'ful  jabber, 
It  turns  de  milk  ob  human  kin'ness  mighty  nigh  to 

clabber ! 

A-A-A-MEN ! 


UNCLE   CAP  INTERVIEWED 

GOOD-MORNIN',  Mahsr — thank  you,  sah;  I's  tol'abk 

myself, 

Considerin'  dat  it's  almos'  time  I's  laid  upon  de  shelf; 
De  onlies'  t'ing  dat  bodders  much  is  right  aroun'  in 

here, 
Dis  mis'ry  in  my  back  dat  won't  recease  to  persevere* 

An*  so  you  come  to  see  me,  sah,  beca'se  you  hab  been 

tol' 

Dat  I's  de  oldes'  man  about  ?  Yes,  I  is  mighty  oF ! 
A  hundred  an'  eleben  years  dis  comin'  Christmas-day — 
I  couldn't  tell  ezzackly,  but  dat's  whut  people  say. 

When  /come  to  dis  country  fust  dar  wa'n't  no  houses 

'roun', 
An*  me  an'  my  ole  mahsr  had  to  camp  out  on  de 

groun'; 

59 


60  UNCLE  CAP  INTERVIEWED 

De  fust  house  dat  was  'reeled,  sah,  I  helped  in  raisin' 

it  — 
Sometimes  I  tries  to  'member  whar  it  sot,  but  I  forgit. 

You  Liza!  ain't  you  nebber  gwine  to  set  dat  pot  to  bile ! 

Niggers  nebber  was  so  lazy  when  your  fader  was  a  chile. 

Dat  ar's  my  youngest  daughter,  sah,  a-washin'  ob  de 
greens ; 

She  was  born  de  year  dat  Jackson  fit  de  battle  ob  Or 
leans. 

Dey  ain't  wuf  shucks,  dese  young  folks  dat's  a-growin' 

up  now'days ; 

I  nebber  seed  no  niggers  yit  dat  had  such  triflin*  ways. 
I  b'lieve  dis  country's  gwine  to  smash  —  I  knows,  at  any 

rate, 
Dat  t'ings  ain't  like  dey  used  to  wuz  in  ole  Virginny  State. 

So  you  thought  'twas  Souf  Ca'lina,  sah,  whar  I  was 

born  an'  raised  ? 
No !  I'm  from  ole  Virginny,  an*  fur  dat  de  Lord  be 

praised ! 


UNCLE   CAP  INTERVIEWED  61 

Virginny  niggers  always  wuz  de  best  dat  you  could 

buy; 
Poor  white  trash  couldn't  git  'em,  'ca'se  de  prices  wuz 

so  high. 

Yes,  sah,  I's  from  Virginny,  an'  I  reckon  dat  you  mout 
Have  heerd  of  folks  I  knowed  —  dey're  often  talked 

about. 
Dar's  Ginnle  Washin'ton,  fur  one ;  he  lived  acrost  de 

road; 
I  'spect  you've  heerd  of  him,  sah  ?   He  wuz  one  ob  dem 

I  knowed. 

He  rode  about  de  country  on  a  big  old  dapple-gray, 
An'  used   to   come  an'  dine  with  mahsr  'bout  ebery 

udder  day; 

De  fmes'-lookin'  gentleman  dat  I  'most  eber  seed  — 
He  tried  to  buy  me;  but  old  mahsr  told  him,  "  No,  in 
deed  ! " 

Whut  do  I  t'ink  of  freedom  ?    I  dunno ;  it's  true  I's  free, 
But  now  I's  got  so  awful  old,  whut  good  is  'at  to  me  ? 


62  UNCLE   CAP  INTERVIEWED 

I  nebber  bodders  'bout  it  much  —  to  tell  the  troof,  my 

min' 
Is  tuk  up  now  in  t'inkin'  'bout  de  place  whar  Fs  a-gwine. 

De  hymn  says :  "  John  de  Baptis',  he  wuz  nuffin  but  a 

Jew, 

But  de  Holy  Bible  tells  us  dat  he  wuz  a  preacher  too," 
An'  if  a  'ligious  Jew  can  'mong  de  chosen  few  advance, 
Dere  shorely  ain't  no  question  but  a  nigger'll  hab  a 

chance. 

I  done  been  had  religion  now  fur  gwine  on  sixty  year, 
An'  my  troubles  is  'mos'  ober,  fur  de  end  is  drawin'  near; 
An'  I  know  dat  when  I  mount  de  skies  de  Lord  will 

make  ob  me 
A  young  an'  likely  nigger,  sah,  jus'  like  I  use*  to  be. 


THE   OLD   HOSTLER'S   EXPERIENCE 

I  GITS  up  heah  —  like  good  ol'  Paul, 
Obed'ent  to  de  Mahsr's  call  — 
To  tell  my  sperunce,  tell  it  all ! 

Ol'  SHAME'S  put  up ; 
An*  I's  led  GLORY  out  de  stall, 

To  win  de  cup. 

Den,  all  you  sinnahs,  cl'ar  de  track ! 
I's  mounted  on  ol'  GLORY'S  back ; 
Her  hufs  is  gwine  ta-click-ta-clack, — 

Dat's  how  dey's  gwine ! 
An*  Satan's  rattlin',  shacklhV  hack 

Is  lef '  behin'. 
63 


64          THE  OLD  HOSTLER'S  EXPERIENCE 

Ah,  Christuns,  in  my  foolish  days 
I  rid  de  debbil's  blooded  bays, 
PERSUMPCHUS  PRIDE,  an'  WORL'LY  WAYS, 

An'  made  'em  lope ; 
But  now  I's  turned  'em  out  to  graze 

Widout  a  rope. 


Yah !  Yah !  Oh  !  how  I  used  to  —  Well, 
De  'tic'lars  'tain't  no  use  to  tell, 
But  oncet  I  rid  de  road  to  hell 

Wid  nar  a  bit, 
An'  went  two-forty  on  the  shell 

Toward  de  pit. 


Like  Balaam,  when  he  rid  de  ass, 

I  'sisted  on  a-trablin'  fas' ; 

But  'twuz  a  pace  'at  c'u'dn't  las', 

An'  I  got  th'owed. 
I  cotch  RELIGION,  trotthV  pas', 

An'  back  I  goed. 


THE  OLD  HOSTLER'S  EXPERIENCE         65 

An'  now  I  simply  'vises  you, 
You  deblish  boys  I's  talkin'  to, 
Don't  nebber  hab  a  thing  to  do 

Wid  Satan's  bosses ; 
Dey'll  buck  an'  fling  you  in  de  sloo, 

Fus  one  you  crosses. 

But  git  RELIGION  well  in  han', 
An'  ride  her  like  a  little  man  — 
Dere  ain't  no  hoss  in  all  de  Ian' 

Kin  run  agin  her  — 
An'  you'll  come  by  de  jedges'  stan' 

A'  easy  winner. 


REV.    HENRY'S   WAR-SONG 

WHO'S  gwine  to  fight  in  de  battle,  in  de  battle  ? 

Who's  gwine  to  march  wid  de  army  ob  de  King  ? 
Listen  at  de  drums,  how  dey  rattle,  rattle,  rattle : 
Hark  to  de  bullets,  how  dey  sing ! 
Close  up,  saints,  in  de  center ! 

Fall  in,  sinnahs,  on  de  flanks ! 
'Tention !  right  dress !  eyes  front !  steady ! — 
All  stand  quiet  in  de  ranks. 

Dat's  right,  men !  keep  a-standin',  keep  a-standin' — 

Not  a  bit  o'  danger  ob  an  inimy  behin' : 
De  ahmy's  at  de  front,  an'  ouah  Gineral  Commandin' 
Has  got  out  a  pow'ful  pickit-line ! 

Wait  for  yo'  orders  till  dey  come,  den ; 

Keep  up  patience ;  rendah  thanks 
Dat  you  has  nuffin  fur  to  do  —  onless  it's  suffin 
To  stan*  up  waitin'  in  de  ranks. 

66 


REV.   HENRY'S   WAR-SONG  67 

Twon't  be  so  long  'fore  de  orders,  'fore  de  orders  — 

Soon  we'll  be  gittin'  'em  —  de  orders  to  advance ; 
Den,  ebry  man  in  de  column  to  his  duty ; 
Show  what's  de  value  ob  de  chance ! 
Fight !  an'  we'll  oberturn  de  debbil ! 

Fight !  an'  we'll  hab  de  country's  thanks ! 
An'  all  '11  git  a  pension  an'  a'  honorable  mention 
What  stood  up  steady  in  de  ranks ! 


LARRY'S    ON    THE    FORCE 

WELL,  Katie,  and  is  this  yersilf  ?   And  where  was  you 

this  whoile  ? 
And  ain't  ye  dhrissed !  You  are  the  wan  to  illusthrate 

the  stoile ! 
But  niver  moind  thim  matthers  now,   there's   toime 

enough  for  thim ; 
And  Larry  —  that's  me  b'y  —  I  want  to  shpake  to  you 

av  him. 

Sure,  Larry  bates  thim  all  for  luck !  —  'tis  he  will  make 

his  way, 
And  be  the  proide  and  honnur  to  the  sod  beyant  the 

say. 
We'll  soon  be  able  —  whisht !     I  do  be  singin'  till  I'm 

hoorse, 
For  iver  since  a  month  or  more,  me  Larry's  on  the 

foorce ! 

68 


LARRY'S  ON  THE  FORCE  69 

There's  not  a  proivate  gintleman  that  boords  in  all 

the  row 
Who  houlds  himsilf  loike  Larry  does,  or  makes  as 

foine  a  show : 
Thim  eyes  av  his,  the  way  they  shoine — his  coat,  and 

butthons  too — 
He  bates    them  kerrige   dhroivers    that  be  on   the 

avenue ! 

He  shtips  that  proud  and  shtately-loike,  you'd  think 

he  owned  the  town, 
And  houlds  his  shtick  convanient  to  be  tappin'  some 

wan  down. 
Aich  blissed  day  I  watch  to  see  him  comin'  up  the 

shtrate, 
For,  by  the  greatest  bit  av  luck,  our  house  is  on  his 

bate. 

The  little  b'ys  is  feared  av  him,  for  Larry's  moighty 

shtrict, 
And    many's    the    litthle  blagyard   he's   arristed,    I 

expict ; 

6 


70  LARRY'S  ON  THE  FORCE 

The  beggyars  gits  acrass  the  shtrate — you  ought  to 

see  thim  fly  !  — 
And  organ-groindhers  scatthers  whin   they  see   him 

comin'  by. 

I  know  that  Larry's  bound  to  roise ;  he'll  get  a  ser 
geant's  post, 

And  afther  that  a  captincy  widhin  a  year  at 
most; 

And  av  he  goes  in  politics  he  has  the  head  to 
throive — 

I'll  be  an  Aldherwoman,  Kate,  afore  I'm  thirty- 
foive ! 

What's  that  again  ?  Y'are  jokin',  surely  —  Katie  !  — 
is  it  thrue  ? 

Last  noight,  you  say,  he  —  married?  and  Aileen 
O' Donahue? 

O  Larry !  c'u'd  ye  have  the  hairt  —  but  let  the  spal 
peen  be : 

Av  he  demanes  himsilf  to  her,  he's  nothing  more  to 
me. 


LARRY'S  ON  THE  FORCE  71 

The  ugly  shcamp  !     I  always  said,  just  as  I'm  tellin' 

you, 

That  Larry  was  the  biggest  fool  av  all  I  iver  knew ; 
And  many  a  toime  I've  tould  mesilf — you  see  it  now, 

av  coorse  — 
He'd  niver  come  to  anny  good  av  he  got  on  the  foorce ! 


THE   IRISH   ECLIPSE 

IN  Watherford,  wanst,  lived  Profissorr  MacShane, 
The  foinest  asthronomer  iver  was  sane ; 
For  long  before  noight,  wid  the  scoience  he  knew, 
Wheriver  wan  shtar  was,  sure  he  could  see  two 

Quoite  plain, 
Could  Profissorr  MacShane. 

More   power  to  him!    ivry   claare  noight   as   would 

pass, 

He'd  sit  by  the  windy,  a-shoving  his  glass ; 
A  poke  at  the  dipper,  that  plaised  him  the  laist, 
But  a  punch  in  the  milky  way  suited  his  taste, — 

Small  blame 
To  his  sowl  for  that  same ! 

Now,  wan  toime  in  Watherford,  not  long  ago, 

They  had  what  the  loike  was  not  haard  of,  I  know, 
72 


THE  IRISH  ECLIPSE  73 

Since  Erin  was  undher  ould  Brian  Borrhoime : 
The  sun  was  ayclipsed  for  three  days  at  wan  toime ! 

It's  thrue 
As  I  tell  it  to  you. 

'Twas  sunroise  long  gone,  yet  the  sun  never  rose, 
And    ivry    wan    axed,  "  What's    the    matther,    God 

knows  ?" 

The  next  day,  and  next,  was  the  very  same  way ; 
The  noight  was  so  long  it  was  lasting  all  day, 

As  black 
As  the  coat  on  yer  back. 

The  paiple  wint  hunting  Profissorr  MacShane, 
To  thry  if  he'd  know  what  this  wondher  could  mane. 
He  answered  thim  back :  "  Is  that  so  ?  Are  ye  there  ? 
'Tis  a  lot  of  most  iligant  gommachs  ye  air, 

To  ax 
For  the  plainest  of  facts ! 

"  Ye're  part  of  an  impoire,  yez  mustn't  forget, 
Upon  which  the  sun's  niver  able  to  set ; 


74  THE  IRISH  ECLIPSE 

Thin  why  will  it  give  yer  impoire  a  surproise 
If  wanst,  for  a  change,  he  refuses  to  roise  ?  " 

Siz  he, 
"  That  is  aizy  to  see !  " 


A  PRACTICAL  YOUNG  WOMAN 

YOUNG  Julius  Jones  loved  Susan  Slade ; 

And  oft,  in  dulcet  tones, 
He  vainly  had  besought  the  maid 

To  take  the  name  of  Jones. 

"Wert  thou  but  solid,  then,  be  sure, 
'Twould  be  all  right,"  said  she, 

"  But,  Mr.  J.,  whilst  thou  art  poor 
Pray  think  no  more  of  me." 

Poor  Jones  was  sad;  his  coat  was  bad; 

His  salary  was  worse ; 
But  hope  suggested :  "  Jones,  my  lad, 

Just  try  the  power  of  verse." 

75 


76  A  PRACTICAL  YOUNG  WOMAN 

He  sat  him  down  and  wrote  in  rhyme 
How  she  was  in  her  spring, 

And  he  in  summer's  golden  prime  — 
And  all  that  sort  of  thing. 

The  poem  praised  her  hair  and  eyes, 
Her  lips,  with  honey  laden. 

He  wound  it  up  —  up  in  the  skies  — 
And  mailed  it  to  the  maiden. 

She  read  it  over,  kept  it  clean, 
Put  on  her  finest  raiment, 

And  took  it  to  a  magazine 
And  got  ten  dollars  payment. 


THE   POLYPHONE 

PROFESSOR  JONES  was  very  wise, 
And  wore  green  goggles  on  his  eyes, — 
Or,  'twould  be  better,  I  suppose, 
To  say  he  wore  'em  on  his  nose, — 
And  was  so  very  tall  and  slim 
The  street-boys  made  a  jest  of  him, 
And  to  his  garments  would  attach 
The  label :  "  Here's  a  walking  match." 
Yet  this  ungainly  friend  of  ours 
Made  daily  gain  in  mental  powers. 
To  him,  each  coming  moment  brought 
Some  thing  of  moment  —  fact  or  thought 
And  he  could  bid  the  boys  defiance 
When  rambling  in  the  paths  of  science. 

For  many  weeks  Professor  Jones 
Made  study  of  the  laws  of  tones. 

77 


78  THE  POLYPHONE 

Of  phonographs  and  telephones 

And  megaphones  he  had  a  store 

That  filled  up  half  his  study  floor. 

The  number  of  his  tools,  indeed, 

Would  make  a  work  too  long  to  read 

With  any  sort  of  satisfaction ; 

But  magnets  were  the  chief  attraction. 

With  these  he  labored,  much  intent 

On  making  a  new  instrument 

Which  should,  by  means  of  sound- vibrations, 

Make  both  "transmissions"  and  translations. 

Said  he :  "  For  speech,  we  must  have  tone, 

And  every  language  has  its  own, — 

Our  high-toned  English  such-and-such, 

And  so-and-so  the  lowest  Dutch, — 

Its  given  rules  to  guide  inflection 

In  some  particular  direction. 

There's  philologic  evidence 

That  all  our  languages  commence 

In  some  lost  parent  tongue, —  each  root 

Each  nation  modifies  to  suit, — 


THE  POLYPHONE  79 

And  languages,  'tis  clearly  found, 

In  no  way  differ  but  in  sound. 

Now,  diaphragms  may  well  be  trusted, 

If  once  they're  properly  adjusted 

For  language  A  and  language  B, 

According  to  the  phonic  key 

(And  then  connected  in  a  circuit 

By  persons  competent  to  work  it), 

To  transpose  these  root-derivations 

Which  differ  with  the  tones  of  nations. 

So  if  one  *  sends '  an  English  sermon 

'Twill  sound  a  sound  discourse  in  German, 

And  our  Italian  learned  at  home 

Can  be  well  understood  at  Rome." 

So  saying,  the  Professor  toiled, 
And  hammered,  polished,  filed,  and  oiled, 
Until,  adjusted  and  connected, 
Behold  the  polyphones  perfected ! 
One  stood  upon  the  study  table, 
And  one  was  downstairs  in  the  stable, 


8o  THE  POLY  PHONE 

Where  curious  neighbors  might  not  spy  it, 
And  naught  remained  to  do  but  try  it. 
A  boy  placed  at  the  sending-station, 
To  speak  (for  a  consideration) 
The  noble  language  of  our  nation, 
Professor  Jones  hied  up  the  stair 
To  listen  to  the  sounds,  up  there, 
Which  would  at  once,  no  doubt,  determine 
If  English  could  be  changed  to  German. 

That  boy  below,  sad  to  relate, 
Was  not  in  a  regenerate  state : 
His  language  did  not  smack  of  schools, 
Or  go  by  proper  laws  and  rules. 
His  speech  was  very  shrill,  but  oh ! 
Its  tone  was  most  exceeding  low ! 
So  then  and  there  the  stable  rang 
With  slang,  and  nothing  else  but  slang, 
Which,  having  no  equivalent 
In  German,  clogged  the  instrument, 
And  while  the  disappointed  Jones 
Stood  quaking  at  the  horrid  tones 


THE  POLYPHONE  81 

That  came  from  the  receiving-plate, 
Discordant,  inarticulate, 
The  boy  began  the  last  new  song  — 
There  was  a  clang,  as  from  a  gong, 
And  shattered  were  the  polyphones, 
And  eke  the  intellect  of  Jones ! 


THE   FIRST   CLIENT 

A  LEGAL  DITTY  TO  BE  SUNG  WITHOUT  CHORUS  TO  THE 
AIR  OF  "  THE  KING'S   OLD  COURTIER." 

JOHN  SMITH,  a  young  attorney,  just  admitted  to  the 

bar, 
Was  solemn  and  sagacious  as  —  as  young  attorneys 

are; 
And  a  frown  of  deep  abstraction  held  the  seizin  of  his 

face  — 
The  result  of  contemplation  of  the  rule  in  Shelley's  Case. 

One  day  in  term-time  Mr.  Smith  was  sitting  in  the 

Court, 
When  some  good  men  and  true  of  the  body  of  the 

county  did  on  their  oath  report, 
82 


THE  FIRST  CLIENT  83 

That  heretofore,  to  wit:    upon   the   second  day  of 

May, 
A.  D.  1877,  about  the  hour  of  noon,  in  the  county  and 

state  aforesaid,  one  Joseph  Scroggs,  late  of  said 

county,  did  then  and  there  feloniously  take,  steal, 

and  carry  away 

One  bay  horse,  of  the  value  of  fifty  dollars,  more  or  less 
(The  same  then  and  there  being  of  the  property,  goods, 

and  chattels  of  one  Hezekiah  Hess), 
Contrary  to  the  statute  in  such  case  expressly  made 
And  provided,  and  against  the  peace  and  dignity  of 

the  state  wherein  the  venue  had  been  laid. 

The  prisoner,  Joseph  Scroggs,  was  then  arraigned  upon 
this  charge, 

And  plead  not  guilty,  and  of  this  he  threw  himself  upon 
the  country  at  large ; 

And  said  Joseph  being  poor,  the  Court  did  graciously 
appoint 

Mr.  Smith  to  defend  him  —  much  on  the  same  princi 
ple  that  obtains  in  every  charity  hospital,  where  a 
young  medical  student  is  often  set  to  rectify  a  se 
rious  injury  to  an  organ  or  a  joint. 


84  THE  FIRST  CLIENT 

The  witnesses  seemed  prejudiced  against  poor  Mr. 
Scroggs ; 

And  the  district  attorney  made  a  thrilling  speech  in 
which  he  told  the  jury  that  if  they  didn't  find  for 
the  state  he  reckonedhe'dhave  to"  walk  their  logs." 

Then  Mr.  Smith  arose  and  made  his  speech  for  the 
defense, 

Wherein  he  quoted  Shakspere,  Blackstone,  Chitty,  Arch- 
bold,  Joaquin  Miller,  Story,  Kent,Tupper,  Smedes, 
and  Marshall,  and  many  other  writers,  and  every 
body  said  they  "  never  heerd  sich  a  bust  of  elo 
quence." 

And  he  said :  "  On  this  hypothesis,  my  client  must  go 
free;" 

And  :  "  Again,  on  this  hypothesis,  it's  morally  impos 
sible  that  he  could  be  guilty,  don't  you  see  ?  " 

And :  "  Then,  on  this  hypothesis,  you  really  can't  con 
vict;"— 

And  so  on,  with  forty-six  more  hypotheses,  upon  none 
of  which,  Mr.  Smith  ably  demonstrated,  could 
Scroggs  be  derelict. 


THE  FIRST  CLIENT  85 

But  the  jury,  never  stirring  from  the  box  wherein  they 
sat, 

Returned  a  verdict  of  "  guilty  ";  and  his  honor  straight 
way  sentenced  Scroggs  to  a  three-year  term  in  the 
penitentiary,  and  a  heavy  fine,  and  the  costs  on 
top  of  that; 

And  the  prisoner,  in  wild  delight,  got  up  and  danced 
and  sung ; 

And  when  they  asked  him  the  reason  of  this  strange 
behavior,  he  said :  "It's  because  I  got  off  so  easy — 
for  if  there'd  ha'  been  a  few  more  of  them  darned 
hypothesises^  I  should  certainly  have  been  hung !  " 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  SQUIRE 

SIR  MORTIMER  EUSTACE  FITZ  CLARENCE  Du  BROWN 

Sat  drinking  his  ruby  wine ; 
And  he  called :  "  What  ho !  Here  —  somebody  go 

And  summon  that  squire  of  mine, 

Young  Patrick  de  Wachtamrhein." 

They  passed  the  word  for  young  Patrick,  who  came 

And  entered  the  castle  hall. 
"  Good  master,"  said  he,  "  and  what  now  might  it  be 

You'd  have  me  be  doing,  at  all  ? 

I'll  do  it,  whatever  befall." 

"  Now  hie  thee  up  to  the  palace,  good  squire, 

And  get  thee  speech  with  the  King ; 
For  fain  would  I  know  if  this  news  be  so 

The  palmers  and  peddlers  bring  — 

Of  a  new  crusade  this  spring." 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  SQUIRE  87 

Young  Patrick  rode  forth  and  young  Patrick  rode  back; 

Sir  Mortimer  gave  him  go'd-den ; 
"  Sir,  war  is  declared,  and  a  draft  prepared, 

For  his  Majesty  must  have  men : 

And  gold  has  gone  up  to  ten." 

Then  good  Sir  Mortimer  straightway  went 

To  his  merchant-tailor  man, 
And  bought  for  a  groat  a  new  tin  coat, 

Which,  cut  on  the  latest  plan, 

Looked  stylish  as  any  tin  can. 

"  I  sell  you  dot  pair  brass  pants  so  sheap  — 

No  ?  Mebbe  you  comes  again  ? 
Puy  a  rupper  shtamp  for  to  use  in  camp 

For  to  marg  your  clodings  plain  ?  " 

But  the  merchant  talked  in  vain. 

"  Come  hither,  now,  Patrick  de  Wachtamrhein," 
Said  the  knight;  "  thou  art  bold  and  stanch ; 

No  wight  in  the  castle  with  thee  can  wrestle : 
I  leave  thee  in  charge  of  the  ranch  — 
Take  care  of  my  lady  Blanche." 


88  THE  KNIGHT  AND    THE  SQUIRE 

Sir  Mortimer  rode  with  his  banner  displayed, — 

Six  cod-fish  saltier-wise, — 
But  he  did  not  go  to  crusade  —  oh,  no ! 

But  in  search  of  army  supplies, 

Expecting  the  market  to  rise. 

Said  he  :  "  In  the  army  I  will  not  go, 

And  they  cannot  impress  me ; 
'Twere  a  vain  attempt,  for  I  am  exempt, 

As  my  age  is  fifty-three. 

A  contractor  I  will  be." 

So  he  rode  abroad,  and  he  found,  with  joy, 
That  his  neighbors'  sheep  looked  well, 

And  their  oxen  stout  went  straying  about 
So  fat  that  they  nearly  fell ; 
And  he  drove  them  off  to  sell. 

Young  Patrick  de  Wachtamrhein  heard  these  things, 

And  his  eyes  with  tears  grew  dim ; 
"  This  castle  should  not,"  he  observed,  "  God  wot, 

Belong  to  a  chap  like  him, 

For  his  moral  sense  is  slim." 


THE  KNIGHT  AND   THE  SQUIRE  89 

So  he  seized  Sir  Mortimer's  wealth  and  wife 

(Divorced  by  a  chancery  suit) ; 
Of  the  house  he  was  head  in  Sir  Mortimer's  stead, 

And  he  sent  off  the  latter,  to  boot, 

To  crusade  as  his  substitute. 

And,  knights,  moral  ye  all  may  learn 
From  the  tale  that  is  here  rehearsed : 

Before  you  start  for  a  foreign  part 
Tis  best  to  provide  for  the  worst, 
And  mortgage  your  property  first. 


NINE   GRAVES   IN   EDINBRO 

IN  the  church-yard,  up  in  the  old  high  town, 
The  sexton  stood  at  his  daily  toil, 

And  he  lifted  his  mattock,  and  drove  it  down, 
And  sunk  it  deep  in  the  sacred  soil. 

And  then  as  he  delved  he  sang  right  lustily, 
Aye  as  he  deepened  and  shaped  the  graves 

In  the  black  old  mold  that  smelled  so  mustily, 
And  thus  was  the  way  of  the  sexton's  staves : 

"  It's  nine  o'  the  clock,  and  I  have  begun 

The  settled  task  that  is  daily  mine ; 
By  ten  o'  the  clock  I  will  finish  one, 

By  six  o'  the  clock  there  must  be  nine : 
90 


NINE  GRAVES  IN  EDINBRO  91 

"  Just  three  for  women,  and  three  for  men, 
And,  to  fill  the  number,  another  three 

For  daughters  of  women  and  sons  of  men 
Who  men  or  women  shall  never  be. 


"  And  the  first  of  the  graves  in  a  row  of  three 
Is  his  or  hers  who  shall  first  appear ; 

All  lie  in  the  order  they  come  to  me, 
And  such  has  been  ever  the  custom  here." 


The  first  they  brought  was  a  fair  young  child, 
And  they  saw  him  buried  and  went  their  way; 

And  the  sexton  leaned  on  his  spade  and  smiled, 
And  wondered,  "  How  many  more  to-day  ?  " 


The  next  was  a  man ;  then  a  woman  came : 
The  sexton  had  loved  her  in  years  gone  by; 

But  the  years  had  gone,  and  the  dead  old  dame 
He  buried  as  deep  as  his  memory. 


92  NINE  GRAVES  IN  EDINBRO 

At  six  o'  the  clock  his  task  was  done; 

Eight  graves  were  closed,  and  the  ninth  prepared- 
Made  ready  to  welcome  a  man  —  what  one 

'T  was  little  the  grim  old  sexton  cared. 


He  sat  him  down  on  its  brink  to  rest, 

When  the  clouds  were  red  and  the  sky  was  gray, 
And  said  to  himself :  "  This  last  is  the  best 

And  deepest  of  all  I  have  digged  to-day. 


"  Who  will  fill  it,  I  wonder,  and  when  ? 

It  does  not  matter :  whoe'er  they  be, 
The  best  and  the  worst  of  the  race  of  men 

Are  all  alike  when  they  come  to  me." 


They  went  to  him  with  a  man,  next  day, 

When  the  sky  was  gray  and  the  clouds  were  red, 

As  the  sun  set  forth  on  his  upward  way ; 

They  went  —  and  they  found  the  sexton  dead. 


NINE  GRA  VES  IN  EDINBRO  93 

Dead,  by  the  open  grave,  was  he ; 

And  they  buried  him  in  it  that  self-same  day, 
And  marveled  much  such  a  thing  should  be ; 

And  since,  the  people  will  often  say : 

If  ye  dig,  no  matter  when, 
Graves  to  bury  other  men, 
Think  —  it  never  can  be  known 
When  ye* II  chance  to  dig  your  own. 
Mind  ye  of  the  tale  ye  know  — 
Nine  graves  in  Edinbro. 


NOTE. — The  following  is  related  concerning  the  death  of 
Jemmy  Camber,  one  of  the  jesters  of  King  James  I. 

"  Jemmy  rose,  made  him  ready,  takes  his  horse,  and  rides  to 
the  church-yard  in  the  high  towne,  where  he  found  the  sexton 
(as  the  custom  is  there)  making  nine  graves  —  three  for  men, 
three  for  women,  and  three  for  children  ;  and  whoso  dyes  next, 
first  come,  first  served.  '  Lend  me  thy  spade,'  says  Jemmy,  and 
with  that  digs  a  hole,  which  hole  hee  bids  him  make  for  his 
grave ;  and  doth  give  him  a  French  crowne.  The  man,  willing  to 
please  him  (more  for  his  gold  than  his  pleasure),  did  so ;  and 
the  foole  gets  upon  his  horse,  rides  to  a  gentleman  of  the  towne, 
and  on  the  sodaine  within  two  houres  after  dyed ;  of  whom  the 
sexton  telling,  he  was  buried  there  indeed." — ROBERT  ARNJM, 
"The  Nest  of  Ninnies."  (A.  D.  1608.) 


HOPE 

No  MATTER  where  we  sail, 
A  storm  may  come  to  wreck  us, 
A  bitter  wind,  to  check  us 

In  the  quest  for  unknown  lands, 
And  cast  us  on  the  sands, 
No  matter  where  we  sail : 

Then,  when  my  ship  goes  down, 
What  choice  is  left  to  me 
From  leaping  in  the  sea— 
And  willingly  forsake 
All  that  the  sea  can  take, 
Then,  when  my  ship  goes  down  ? 

Still,  in  spite  of  storm, 
From  all  we  feel  or  fear 
A  rescue  may  be  near : 
Though  tempests  blow  their  best, 
A  manly  heart  can  rest 
Still,  in  spite  of  storm ! 

94 


STUDIES  IN  STYLE 

BURNS. — An  Epistle  to  John  Howard. 

DEAR  SIR  :  I  never  saw  your  face 
But  yet,  for  some  few  moments'  space, 
To  tak'  a  friend's  familiar  place 

Is  my  design : 
The  friend  o'  a'  the  human  race 

Is  surely  mine. 

Here  is  my  han',  sir ;  will  ye  tak'  it  ? 

An  honest  man  may  safely  shake  it, 

For,  'spite  o'  Fate,  nae  powers  shall  mak'  it 

Be  stained  wi'  crime  — 
May  a*  its  little  force  forsake  it 

Afore  that  time ! 

95 


96  STUDIES  IN  STYLE 

Tis  little  that  I  hae  to  offer — 

My  humble  muse  expects  you'll  scoff  her, 

And  scarce  she  daurs  to  mak'  the  proffer, 

It  is  sae  sma' : 
My  best  guid-will :  pray  tak'  it  of  her, 

For  that's  my  a*. 


I  hae  nae  flatt'rin'  words  to  gie  you ; 

I  only  say,  sir,  God  be  wi'  you ! 

And  whan  from  life  He  wills  to  free  you, 

May  you  repair 
To  His  ain  house  —  I  hope  to  see  you 

Whan  I  am  there  ! 


This  warld,  I  hope  you  may  improve  it, 
But  yet  I  doubt  the  de'il  could  move  it 
Except  in  tracks  already  groovit  — 

Howe'er,  if  sae, 
There  is  nae  harm  to  try  to  shove  it 

Anither  way. 


STUDIES  IN  STYLE  97 

The  warld,  they  say,  is  gettin'  auld ; 
Yet  in  her  bosom,  I've  been  tauld, 
A  burnin',  youthfu'  heart's  installed  — 

I  dinna  ken, — 
But  sure  her  face  seems  freezin'  cauld 

To  some  puir  men. 


In  summer  though  the  sun  may  shine, 
Aye  still  the  winter's  cauld  is  mine  — 
But  what  o'  that  ?  The  manly  pine 

Endures  the  storm ! 
Ae  spark  o'  Poesy  divine 

Will  keep  me  warm. 


But  I  am  takin'  up  your  time  — 

Worth  sae  much  mair  than  my  puir  rhyme 

That  ye  will  hear  sic  verses  chime 

And  no  cry  "hark!"— 
Sae,  wussin  ye  success  sublime, 

I  mak'  my  mark. 


98  STUDIES  IN  STYLE 

HERRICK. —  A  Preachment. 

O  MAN  !  if  hard  thy  fortune, 

However  fate  importune, 
Turn  not  to  wrong  —  none  find,  or  will, 
Their  good  enlarged  by  doing  ill. 

As  boats  that  row  in  Venice 
Just  so  the  life  of  men  is  : 
Our  course  goes  crooked  o'er  the  tide, 
With  but  a  broken  oar  to  guide. 

Thy  heart  of  oak  then  cherish, 
Or  sure  thy  soul  will  perish  — 
The  soul  is  but  a  boat  that  goes 
Whatever  way  the  heart  hath  chose. 


ALONG  THE   LINE 

WHAT  say  ?  A  song  or  a  story  ?    Draw  up  a  box  'r  a 

chair, 
All  them  that  is  wantin'  to  listen; — but,  boys,  I'ma-tellin' 

you  fair. 
See  this  ?   It'll  go  for  the  feller  what  takes  a  notion  to 

laugh, 
And  him  or  me  will  be  t'  our  folks  a  man  or  a  foreto- 

graph ! 

You  didn't  know  Jim  —  of  course  not — I'm  tellin'  you 

now  of  him : 
A  fearful  chap  on  his  muscle,  a  wild  old  boy,  was 

Jim; 
But,  boys,  now  don't  you  forgit  it,  he  was  as  good  and 

square 
As  any  man  that  the  county  held  —  and  plenty  o* 

men  was  there, 

99 


ioo  ALONG   THE  LINE 

Jim  was  alightnin'-jerker  —  of  course  you  know 't  I  mean : 
He  sot  at  his  little  table  and  rattled  the  Morse  machine. 
And  didn't  it  rattle!   I  bet  you!   He'd  studied  it  down 

so  fine, 
There  wasn't  a  one  that  could  "  send  "  with  him,  not 

all  along  the  line. 

One  time  Jim  sat  in  the  office,  a-smokin'  and  gazin'  out, 
When  in  come  a  feller  was  lookin'  skeered  —  and  nuff 

to  be  skeered  about ! 
He  told  his  news  in  a  minute,  and,  man  as  he  was,  got 

cry'n'; 
And  "  Yaller  fever  is  broken  cut !  "  went  clickin'  along 

the  line. 

I  think  that  line  was  connected  with  every  soul  in  the  land, 
From  what  was  sent  t'  us  Howards  —  I'm  one,  d'ye 

understand  ? 
Of  all  the  parts  o'  the  Union,  no  tell'n'  which  helped  us 

most; 
And  we  was  a-workin',  we  was,  sir !  And  Jim  he  kep'  to 

his  post. 


ALONG    THE  LINE   ,  ;\\  \.^\       XoJ 

All  day  long  he  was  settin'  pushin'  away  at  the  key, 
Or  takin'  off  from  the  sounder,  just  as  the  case  might  be ; 
And  most  of  the  night  a-nursin'.  And  what  was  bracin' 

his  heart 
Was  knowhV  his  only  sister  'n'  him  was  seventy  miles 

apart. 

The  air  got  full  o'  the  fever;  grass  growed  up  in  the 

street ; 

Travel  the  town  all  over,  and  never  a  man  you'd  meet, 
'Cept,  maybe,  some  feller  a-runnin',  who'd  say,  as  he 

passed  you  by : 
"  I'm  tryin'  to  find  the  doctor,"  or"  Billy  is  bound  to  die." 

When  folks  went  under  —  they  might  be  the  very  best 

in  the  land  — 
We  throwed  'em  into  a  white-pine  box,  and  drayed  'em 

out  off-hand, 
To  wait  their  turn  to  be  planted,  without  a  word  or  a 

prayer ; 
There  wa'n't  no  chance  and  there  wa'n't  no  time  for 

prayin'  or  preachin'  there. 

8 


IOC  ALONG   THE  LINE 

Well,  Jim,  he  minded  his  duty,  and  stuck  to  the  work — 

oh,  yes  — 
But,  boys,  one  Saturday  night,  when  he  was  busy  sendin' 

the  press, 
There  come  a  break,  and  his  office  call,  and  soon  as 

he'd  time  to  sign, 
"  Your  sister's  took  the  fever  and  died"  come  flashin' 

along  the  line. 

Throw  up  the  winder  and  let  in  air !  How  can  I  breathe 

or  speak 
With — Jim?   Oh,  certainly;  news  like  that  was  bound 

for  to  make  him  weak ; 
But  Jim  sot  straight  at  the  table  —  he  wa'n't  the  man 

to  shirk ! 
And,  calmer  and  cooler  than  I  am  now,  he  finished  the 

company's  work. 

But  then  he  dropped;  and  in  four  days  more  all  that 

was  left  of  him 
Was  the  wasted  body  that  once  had  held  the  noblest 

soul  —  poor  Jim ! 


ALONG   THE  LINE  103 

0  boys !  that  brother  and  sister  was  brother  and  sister 

o*  mine  ! 

1  wonder  if  ever  we'll  meet  ag'in,  somewheres  along 

the  line. 


HER   CONQUEST 

MUSTER  thy  wit,  and  talk  of  whatsoever 

Light,  mirth-provoking  matter  thou  canst  find  : 

I  laugh,  and  own  that  thou,  with  small  endeavor, 
Hast  won  my  mind. 

Be  silent  if  thou  wilt ;  thine  eyes  expressing 

Thy  thoughts  and  feelings,  lift  them  up  to  mine : 

Then  quickly  thou  shalt  hear  me,  love,  confessing 
My  heart  is  thine. 

And  let  that  brilliant  glance  become  but  tender  — 
Return  me  heart  for  heart  —  then  take  the  whole 

Of  all  that  yet  is  left  me  to  surrender : 
Thou  hast  my  soul. 

Now,  when  the  three  are  fast  in  thy  possession, 

And  thou  hast  paid  me  back  their  worth,  and  more, 
I'll  tell  thee  —  all  whereof  I've  made  thee  cession 

Was  thine  before. 

104 


NELLY 

NOT  long  ago  —  perhaps  —  not  long — 
My  soul  heard  no  discordant  tone, 

For  love  and  youth's  sweet  matin  song 
It  hearkened  to,  and  that  alone ; 

But  now  the  song  is  hushed, —  it  hears 
Strange  music,  in  a  harsher  key, 

For  every  sound  a  dirge  appears 
Since  Nelly  died,  who  lived  for  me. 

The  summer  of  my  life  is  past ; 

Eternal  winter  reigns  instead ; 
For  how,  for  me,  could  summer  last, 

When  she,  my  only  rose,  is  dead  ? 

105 


106  NELLY 

Sweet  Nelly !  would  thou  couldst  be  yet, 
As  once,  my  day,  my  only  light ! 

But  thou  art  gone  —  the  sun  has  set  — 
And  every  day,  to  me,  is  night. 

Yet,  be  the  darkness  e'er  so  deep, 
Let  no  more  suns  arise  for  me : 

For  night  can  soothe  my  heart  to  sleep, 
And,  Nelly,  then  I'll  dream  of  thee! 


COSMOS 

WHAT  to  me  are  all  your  treasures  ? 
Have  I  need  of  purchased  pleasures, 

Croesus,  such  as  thine  ? 
Come,  I'll  have  thee  make  confession 
Thou  hast  naught  in  thy  possession, 

And  the  world  is  mine. 

I  have  all  that  thou  hadst  never; 
Though  I'm  old,  I'm  young  forever, 

And  happy  I,  at  ease ; 
All  I  wish  I  can  create  it; 
Wing  my  soul,  and  elevate  it 

Where  and  when  I  please. 

Of  my  secret  make  but  trial : 
Seest  thou  this  little  vial  ? 

Dost  thou  not,  then,  think 
Magic  power  to  it  pertaining, 
All  the  world  itself  containing, 

Though  it  holds  but — ink? 
107 


AN   EXCHANGE 

DEATH  seizeth  not  the  soul ; 
When  life  is  past  control  — 
No  power  left  to  hold  it, 
When  we  have  lost  or  sold  it  — 
Why  care  we  for  the  loss  of  lives 

Of  suffering  and  sinning, 
Well  knowing  that,  for  what  survives, 
A  life  is  just  beginning  ? 

So,  when  our  day  arrives, 
Why  cling  we  to  our  lives  ? 

Though  they  be  clean  and  fair, 
Or  stained  with  sin  and  care, 
The  bargain  cannot  be  adverse ; 

An  old  life  for  a  new  one ; 
Death  cannot  make  a  false  soul  worse, 
Or  ever  change  a  true  one. 

108 


THE   CEMETERY 

I  STAND  within  this  solemn  place 
And  think  of  days  gone  by ; 

I  think  of  many  an  old-time  face ; 
Here's  where  those  faces  lie. 

I  think  of  when,  what  time  God  please, 
The  hour  shall  come  to  me, 

That,  covered  by  the  clay,  like  these, 
My  face  shall  masked  be. 

No  marble  monument  will  rise 

Above  that  grave  of  mine ; 
No  loving  friends  will  wipe  their  eyes 

When  life  I  shall  resign. 

But  when  I  leave  my  life  —  have  left 

My  every  present  care  — 
I'll  find  a  home  of  care  bereft; 

My  friends  are  living  there ! 
109 


GOING 

DRAW  de  curtain  wider — wider  —  let  me  see  de  sun; 
I'll  be  trab'lin'  higher'n  it  is,  'fore  de  day  is  done. 
Prop  a  cheer  ag'in  de  door,  an'  let  me  heah  de 

breeze, 
Soundin'  like  a  runnin'  ribber,  'mong  de  china-trees. 


Sing  de  "Rock  of  Ages,"  Phillis  —  sing  it  soft  an' 

low; 

Dat's  de  tune  I  wants  to  heah  ag'in  afore  I  go. 
Don't  you  choke  an'  sob,  ol'  'ooman  —  sing  it  brave 

an'  bol' : 
Ah,  dat  music !  —  seems  to  me  it's  singin'  in  my  soul  I 


GOING 


in 


Listen ! —  don't  you  hear  de  dog  ?  I  knows  what  makes 

him  howl. 
Las'  night,  up  on  top  de  house,  dere  sot  a  whoopin' 

owl; 
Den  dat  whip-poor-will,  you  knows  you'se'f  you  heerd 

it  cry  — 
All  dem  things  has  knowledge  ob  a  pusson  gwine 

to  die. 

I's  a-gwine  to  glory,  Phillis,  'way  up  in  de  sky, 
Whar  de  houses  is  ob  gol' —  an'  you'll  come  by  an'  by ! 
I  ain't  gwine  to  settle  down  yit ;  dey  will  le'  me  wait 
Tell  you  comes  to  jine  me  troo  de  nebber-shettin'  gate. 

Take  me  easy  as  you  kin,  an'  HP  me  up  in  bed ; 
Fotch  an  extry  pillow  heah,  to  put  beneef  my  head ; 
Dar  —  I's  ready,   now,  to  hab   de   paf  to   Hebben 

showed  — 
Dem  'ar  guidin'  angels  mus'  be  stoppin'  on  de  road ! 

Phillis,  do  you  reckon  dat  a  harp  is  hard  to  play  ? 
'Spose  I'll  1'arn  to  pick  it,  ef  I  practise  eb'ry  day. 


1 1 2  GOING 

Hark!  —  de  angels  is  a-comin'  —  heah  'em   fly,  ker- 

swush  ! 
Dere  mus'  be  a  mons'ous  covey,  comin'  wid  a  rush ! 

Heah  'em  flyin'  down  de  chimbly!     No,  dat  ain't  de 

win'  — 
You  kain't  heah  'em,  'kase  yoah  ears  is  stoppered  up 

wid  sin. 

Glory!    Glory!    Glory!    I's  a-gwine— yes,  I'sa-g  wine! 
I's  de  one  dat's  taken,  you's  de  oder  lef  behin'! 

Angels  is  a  stan'in'  'roun'  me,  hoPin'  out  dey  han's! 
Now  I  sees  de  ribber  Jordan,  runnin'  in  de  san's. 
Don't  you  see  dat  angel,  p'intin'  at  it  wid  his  sword  ? 
Hush! — don't  'sturb  me  talkin' — I's  a  lookin'  fer  de 
ford! 


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